Left Behind
by Emerald1
Summary: A simple joke, they'd done it many times, but a criminal and Mother Nature conspire to turn the joke into a tragedy. Will the team survive, or will the guilt and worry tear them apart? With the potential body count rising, will a certain agent buckle?
1. Chapter 1

**a/n - I usually don't post multiple stories at the same time (used to, until I accidently switched chapters once), but I want to get both of them up before the repair shop gets my computer.**

* * *

Left Behind

"Morning, Ziva." Tony sailed into the squad room balancing a drink carrier and a bag of pastries. "Man, am I glad the surveillance on Hopper is done. We got off the mountain just in time."

Ziva accepted her tea and a slice of banana bread. "Yes, the weather changed very quickly. I was surprised to see so much snow this morning, even down here." She tore off a chunk of the bread. "Thank you, Tony, but what is the occasion? Are we celebrating the ending of the joint operation?"

Tony had finished setting hot coffees and donuts on Gibbs' and McGee's empty desks just as Fornell came off the elevator. "Nah, as great as it will be to have the FBI out of our hair, I figured I owed it to Probie for making him wait and ride back on the equipment truck instead of in the chopper."

"What?" Fornell stared at him in horror. "You left McGee with the equipment yesterday?"

Tony had his back to the other agent and didn't see the expression on his face. "Well, he was still transmitting data back here and we didn't want some woodland critter to chew through any of the FBI's computers." He turned to finally look at Fornell. "Oh, come on, the truck was already on the way, an extra hour or two wasn't going to kill him." Gibbs arrived from MTAC just in time to hear Fornell's answer.

"The equipment truck broke an axle, they never made it up the mountain."

"What?"

Gibbs ignored DiNozzo's outburst and concentrated on Fornell, not stopping until he was in his face. "You're saying you didn't send another truck up there?"

"Hey, we can't just call out the military like you guys. That's the only truck we've got to handle that kind of terrain, and the gear we were using is getting decommissioned at the first of the year. That's just a few weeks away, so it was no big deal. Your people were supposed to leave on the chopper."

Ziva was already trying McGee's phone. "He is not answering, Gibbs."

"Try the satellite phone." Gibbs knew that there was no cell service that far from civilization, which was why they'd been using a satellite phone between the surveillance site and the outside world.

"Umm, Boss, I brought the sat phone back with me." When Gibbs glared at him, Tony rushed to explain. "I didn't mean to, but it was in my jacket pocket."

Shaking his head, Gibbs dialed down to Abby's lab. "Abby, have you heard from McGee?"

_~I'm not talking to McGee any more, Gibbs. He was telling terrible lies about you guys last night. He said you left him behind.~_

"Abby, when did you talk to him and exactly what did he say?" There was a silence as she thought back.

_~About 17.00, he emailed me that the truck hadn't shown up and the generators were almost out of gas. Why would he think you'd leave him behind?~_

"Because apparently we did." Gibbs was already on the move back to MTAC as he closed his phone, the rest of them on his heels.

-NCIS-

Abby stared at the phone as the dial tone echoed through it. "You left him? You left him? How could you leave him, Gibbs?" She rushed to the computer and tried to reestablish the link. "Come on, McGee, where are you?"

-NCIS-

Vance looked up as the group arrived in MTAC. Gibbs ignored him and went straight to one of the technicians. "Get me connected with the ranger station again, NOW." It took a few minutes and he could feel Vance staring at him. The test pattern on the screen cleared to show Martin Taylor, their contact with the Forest Service.

"Agent Gibbs, your people got out just in time. We've got quite a blizzard going on up here."

"Then we've got a heck of a problem because the FBI truck didn't make it up there." The thin man on the screen just shook his head.

"If you've got gear left up there, it'll be there until Spring. Hope it was nothing expensive."

"We've got a man still up there." The shout silenced people on both sides of the transmission. Eventually the ranger gave them an update of the weather conditions up on the mountain.

"Over a foot of snow came down overnight, winds are sustained at thirty-five and gusts up to forty-five. Visibility is down to a matter of feet and everything is grounded. Forecast is that it could last at least a week."

Gibbs rubbed his face. "There has to be a way to get up there. I don't leave my people behind."

A ranger behind Taylor leaned closer to the camera. "Sorry, pops, but you already have."

Taylor glared at him before turning his attention back to the group watching from NCIS. "We'll have a rescue team standing by in case there's a break in the weather, but..."

"I understand, keep us posted." Gibbs' harsh breathing could be heard in the silence that followed. Vance stood and headed for the door.

"Gibbs, with me."

Tony spoke up before Gibbs could move. "This is my fault, Director. I'm the one that told McGee to stay there and wait for the truck."

"No, Tony, I'm team leader. The responsibility is mine." Gibbs looked like he'd aged twenty years as he followed Vance. Behind him Fornell was going through his contacts trying to find someone to help while Tony and Ziva stared at the storm images now up on one of the smaller screens.

-NCIS-

Once the door was closed, Vance poured two cups of coffee and guided them to the sitting area of his office. Gibbs took the offered cup and stared down into the dark liquid. "All the years in the Corps, I've never left a man behind, Leon, and now..."

"This isn't the time to wallow, Gibbs. Now, what supplies were still out there? Let's figure out what he would do."

Gibbs gave his report automatically. "We were set up out there for over seventy-two hours, there wasn't much left. Maybe one or two cold ration packets. The computers had satellite up-link, but he told Abby he was almost out of fuel for the generators even before the storm hit. A couple of folding chairs, a table, and the lean-to were still left there, maybe a folding shovel, everything else went back in the chopper. Damn it, Leon, McGee twisted his ankle and he and DiNozzo were getting on each others nerves, I should have sent him back early, but I needed him on the computers."

This was sounding worse and worse. "How bad was his ankle?"

Gibbs thought back. "I'm not sure. McGee isn't one to really complain, so it's hard to gauge. I don't think it was too serious, but it slowed him down."

"Does he have any survival training?" None was listed in the young agent's file, but he knew that Gibbs was constantly pushing his team to improve.

"McGee? My computer geek?"

Vance was grasping at straws. "Isn't he a scout leader?"

Gibbs smiled at the memory of McGee in his uniform years ago. "He's an assistant leader, gave his troop a tour of NCIS a few years back and he mentioned once about helping them with their space exploration and inventing badges. Doesn't make him Grizzly Adams."

"Maybe not, but I'm not ready to give up on him yet. Put together a plan and I'll authorize it." Vance waited until Gibbs was almost to the door. "We've got a small window of time for a viable rescue, Gibbs, don't waste any of it drowning in guilt."

Gibbs nodded without turning around and closed the door behind him.

-NCIS-

As soon as the video feed from NCIS went dark, Martin Taylor confronted his man. "What the heck was that all about, Peter? They've got an agent lost out on the mountain in the middle of a blizzard. Gibbs didn't need that kind of a crack from you."

Peter King certainly looked apologetic. "Sorry, sir, it just slipped out." He waited for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and leaving the room, not smiling until the door was closed behind him. He'd only been paid to make sure the computers weren't recovered. The agent left behind was just icing on the cake.


	2. Chapter 2

Twelve hours earlier:

Tim huddled over the small fire, feeding it bits of tinder slowly as he built up the flame. He'd studied topographical maps of the mountain before they'd been sent up there and had been able to locate a small cave before night, and the storm, set in. Unfortunately, he'd re-injured his ankle in the process, slowing down his progress as he'd set up an emergency camp.

Branches and the tarp from the lean-to now covered most of the entrance, blocking the wind and the snow. He'd used some of DiNozzo's left over corn chips to help start a fire, the oily snack giving enough extra heat to the flame to overcome the dampness of the small twigs and branches. McGee's coat was still wet from the earlier rain that had turned to freezing rain before becoming snow and he draped it over the metal chair he'd brought from the base camp, hoping to get it dry before he had to venture back out in the blowing snow. As the fire strengthened, he began to move rocks closer, allowing them to heat up as well. Eventually the fire was big enough to not need constant tending and he moved on to his next chore.

His teammates had cheerfully left behind the folding shovel they'd used to dig a latrine, stating that someone had to fill it in. Now Tim was grateful for the implement, almost as grateful as he was that the head scoutmaster had asked him to research a more in-depth wilderness survival program for the boys. He started digging a trench, just wide enough and long enough to lay down in. Each rock he uncovered was set aside near the fire to warm slowly, making sure they were dry, as just a little moisture in a small crack could turn a simple rock into an explosive grenade when quickly heated.

Once the trench was dug, he circled the edge with the larger of the rocks he'd collected before filling in with some of the branches he'd gathered earlier. Hardwoods were the best, but downed branches were limited, so he'd supplemented with pine. On top of that he added the rest of his tinder and the pine cones he'd found. When he'd first located the cave, he had scooped up all the dry pine needles he could reach and dumped them into the empty gas can. Now he shook out the needles on the top of his long bonfire. With any luck they absorbed enough of the gas fumes to light the fire quickly and easily. A burning twig from the first fire was touched to the oddly shaped pile and the needles quickly ignited, catching the tinder and pine cones within moments before spreading into the larger branches. He continued to add to the fire until the flames had spread to the entire trench.

Two hours later McGee shifted the hot coals around until they were fairly even and covered them with the dirt he'd set aside while digging. Carefully tamping down the dirt, he stopped when he had a several inch layer covering all the coals and settled in to wait.

As the coals warmed his firebed, Tim checked his ankle. After taking his third tumble he'd been forced to stop and create a make-shift splint. He didn't want to remove it, especially after seeing the swelling and the dark bruise that now was well above his sock. Instead, he turned his attention to the contents of his backpack. Four granola gars and one pack of trail mix were left, plus three empty water bottles. The two water bottles he'd refilled with snow earlier were still sitting near the fire, now melted and ready to be purified. There was only one package of water purification tablets, but that was enough to last several days until the storm broke. He had both a heavy survival knife and a multipurpose tool in addition to the pocketknife he always carried. His fourth blade was actually a wire survival saw and he ignored the rest of the backpack's contents for now as he started to practice using the unfamiliar device. The last few unused branches in the cave were systematically cut into pieces while he waited for his bed to warm. Once his coat was dry, he pulled it back on before laying his Mylar survival blanket over the warmed dirt and crawling into the surprisingly warm bed. Exhausted, Tim pulled the thin silver sheet around him, closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep, dreaming of his upcoming morning rescue.

-NCIS-

"Abby, are you all right?" Ziva stood in the doorway to the lab, unsure of her welcome.

"I killed my best friend, Ziva, what do you think?" Abby angrily wiped the tears off her face, smearing her make-up. "My last words... I... McGee... oh, Ziva." Breaking down again, Abby threw herself into Ziva's arms.

Even braced, Ziva stumbled backwards slightly as she found herself with an armful of crying Goth. "We must not give up hope, Abby. McGee never gave up hope when we believed Tony was killed or when I was in Somalia. Now it is our turn to keep the faith for him." Ziva pulled back and used her thumbs to wipe the smudges from Abby's cheeks. "It is the season of faith, is it not?"

"Positive thoughts?"

"Positive thoughts."

With that slight encouragement Abby resumed pacing in her lab, fingers pressed against her temples. "Positive thinking, positive thinking, McGee is waiting for Gibbs to come get him." She spun around to stare at Ziva. "Why are you guys still here? McGee's waiting for you."

The changes were making Ziva dizzy. "We have to wait for the storm to clear. The rangers have a team standing by for the smallest break and then they will get him."

"Not Gibbs? But Timmy is waiting for Gibbs."

"They are trained for dealing with a storm like this, Gibbs is not. None of us are."

"But..."

"Positive thoughts, they will be ready to move in at the first sign of the storm lessening. Christmas will be here soon. McGee will be back with us and making Tony wait on him hand and foot."

"And I will." Both women looked up at Tony as he stood, eyes bright, watching them. Abby held out a hand and he quickly joined them, burying his face in Abby's shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It wasn't supposed to happen like this, Abby. We passed the truck on our way down; I never thought... I never dreamed... I'm sorry."

Distracted from her own guilt by Tony's, Abby let go of Ziva to wrap both of her arms around Tony. "We both will. We'll bring him a steady stream of hot coffee and his favorite donuts..."

Tony gave a watery laugh. "I'll even pick the extra sprinkles off of it for him without complaining."

"And I'll listen to his jazz instead of my heavy metal and make you eat with chopsticks so he'll have something to laugh at, and..."

The other two distracted, Ziva slipped out to complete her next errand.

-NCIS-

In the quiet of his office, Leon Vance sat down with Timothy McGee's personnel file and made the call he never wanted to make. His next of kin were his parents, listed as George and Brenda McGee, currently living outside of Boston. The phone rang twice before a gruff voice answered.

~Hello?~

"Is this George McGee?"

~Yes, who's this?~

Vance took a deep breath. "Mr. McGee, I'm Director Vance from NCIS. I'm afraid that there's been a situation and your son is currently..."

"Don't have a son, Director Vance. Timmy made his choice and he chose his team over his family. Whatever has happened, you people will have to take care it yourselves."

George ranted for a few more minutes, but before Vance even had words to ask, he was speaking to a dial tone. He carefully laid the handset down, staring into space. Over the last few years he'd become close to all the agents working out of the Yard, but none more than Gibbs' team. Even his relationship with the brash DiNozzo had deepened into one of understanding, but none was as close to him as McGee. The young geek had been the first one Vance had taken into his confidence about his suspicions, the first one to ask if he and his family were settling into DC all right, the first to defend his teammates when Vance had privately debated reuniting the team.

He was still staring at his phone when his assistant came in and quietly closed the door behind her. "Director Vance, Tim McGee's sister is on the phone for you, line three."

He fumbled with the phone as he nodded to her. "Miss McGee? This is Director Vance."

~He's not dead, is he? Please tell me he's not dead.~

Vance could hear the tears in her voice. "We don't know yet, but I won't lie to you, Miss McGee, your brother's situation is very grim. He was working surveillance very high up on a mountain and the truck was not able to retrieve him before the weather turned. We have rescue teams standing by and the second there's the slightest break the rescue helicopter will be taking off." Pamela slipped a scrap of paper under his hand, giving Vance more details about McGee's sister. "Sarah, your brother would not want this to frighten you too much, are you at your parents' home right now?"

~I came home to talk to Daddy, he's being so stubborn about Tim.~

He'd thought he couldn't feel any worse about what was happening, but as Vance listened to what had driven the two men apart he realized how wrong he was.

-NCIS-

The branches and tarp would block a great deal of the light from outside, but it was still too dark when McGee woke. He checked the time, grateful he'd paid extra for the watch face that lit up. It was well past daybreak, so he climbed out of his warm nest to check outside. The snow had to be blowing sideways to be coming through the ventilation hole he'd left in the doorway. Knowing that no rescue would be coming anytime soon, Tim returned to his bed and wrapped the space blanket back around him. "This isn't funny anymore, guys. Come get me, come get me soon."


	3. Chapter 3

**a/n - Thank you for all the reviews, I'm glad most of you like this one. Natalie, I'm afraid if you're looking for Tony is perfect and never plays a joke on McGee, but McGee and Ziva hate him and are out to get him stories, mine are the wrong ones to be reading. The very first episode that introduced McGee has Tony tricking him into sitting alone, watching a crime scene all night, and the core of their relationship is the teasing/brothers thing they have going, and this time I'm exploring what happens when one of those jokes backfires. Remember, Tony _knew_ that the truck was on its way and physically saw it from the helicopter.**

* * *

"Anything?"

Gibbs stared at his phone long after he'd disconnected the call. "Got a squad of mountain rescue Marines standing by, but like the Major said, there's nothing that they can do that the rescue team with the parks department can't do."

"So we wait?"

Gibbs just nodded, still staring at his phone. Vance waited for him to look up, but eventually gave up and told him of their new problem.

"I've just gotten off the phone with McGee's father. Had McGee mentioned any family problems?"

"No, at least not to me." Gibbs finally looked up, waiting for the rest.

Vance hated this, notifying next of kin was the worst part of the job, but nothing had prepared him for what he'd been told by George, then Sarah McGee. "All he would tell me was that Tim had made his decision and was no longer a part of their family and he was not interested in any further communication with the agency."

"He disowned Tim? Over what?"

Vance looked around for Ziva and Tony before sitting on the edge of Gibbs' desk. "According to Sarah, their mom had a mild stroke the morning before your team left for Somalia."

"He never said a word."

"Figured. His dad wanted him to come home, but since his mom was stable, McGee continued on with the mission. The old man considered it unforgivable."

Gibbs remembered how distracted McGee was on the flight over, but he'd chalked it up to nerves. "His father was Navy, surely he understood..."

"His father was Navy, but Tim isn't." Vance shook his head as his anger threatened to overtake him. "According to Sarah, their father has always considered civilian employees of the military to be second class citizens. She said that he'd never accepted the choice that Tim made and never thought that what he did for the agency was worthwhile."

The knowledge hit Gibbs hard. "We're his only family now, and we're the ones that left him. This will damn near kill Tony and Ziva."

"I know." Vance's face showed both compassion and sadness. "I'll leave it up to you what and when to tell them. I am sorry, Gibbs."

-NCIS-

It was almost sunset as Martin Taylor studied the weather charts spread out over the table, with Peter King leaning over his shoulder. "Look at that wind pattern. We'll be lucky to have more than an hour between storm fronts, not enough time to get a chopper up there and conduct a search." Taylor felt bad for Gibbs and his team, but he couldn't risk his own people unless there was at least a slight chance of success.

King tapped one of the charts before moving his hand to the map. "What if I take one of the small snow-cats as far as Wilson Ridge and wait for a break?"

It was a possibility and the older man nodded thoughtfully. "It might work. There's enough of a wind break to protect you until you move further up the mountain, but you'd have to wait until morning and go solo."

"Extra bodies will just slow me down." King kept his face blank. "There's only a few places their agent could hole up in and survive this. If he's wandered off, we won't find him until Spring, no matter how many men we send up there."

"This is dangerous enough that I can't order you to do it."

Finally King let himself grin, just a bit. "I know, Marty, so consider it payback for me mouthing off to Gibbs about losing his man in the first place."

-NCIS-

The elderly man with the wise eyes took Ziva's hands. "Your friend sounds like a good man, it is an honor to pray for his safe return." He bent forward and kissed both of her cheeks. "Go with God, my child. The members of the synagogue will keep him and his rescuers in our prayers."

"Thank you, Rabbi." Ziva touched the star hanging from her neck. "He went halfway around the world to help save me, and now it is beyond my ability to help him." With a final nod, she slipped out of his office, not slowing down until she was out in the parking lot. Instead of returning to her car, she walked across the street to a small park. It was empty, and she found a bench that overlooked the Potomac. She did not consider herself a deeply religious woman, her work with Mossad was too often at cross-purpose with the teaching of any religion, but she had found herself standing outside a small church after checking on McGee's apartment. A few words from a young man wearing a collar had the whole story tumbling out. He held her hand as she prayed, not at all offended by the sight of a Jewish woman praying in Hebrew at the alter of his Presbyterian Church.

The trip to the synagogue had been just as unplanned and just as uplifting. Ziva watched the clouds as they swirled around, separating for just a moment to reveal one bright star in the sky. "Hold on, McGee, they will find you and bring you home to us."

-NCIS-

It had been almost impossible, but McGee found enough deadfall to burn and prepared his bed for the second night. If he had to hold out another day, he'd have to travel further and in the white-out conditions that was very risky, even with a walking stick. He was hungry, but forced himself to continue to ration his meager supplies. If help did not arrive the next morning, then he would need the energy from the remaining food to travel out to gather wood. That meant he would also need to start looking for alternative food supplies, so he sat cross-legged on the ground and carefully whittled some of the smaller, green twigs into a snare. If nothing else, he would have quite a tale to tell his scouts.

-NCIS-

It was still dark when Ziva left for the Yard, after a restless night watching the sky. The snowplows were out in force and she turned onto another street to avoid them. Driving on autopilot, she found herself in front of a familiar Sunni mosque. It may have been several years, but she had never forgotten the murder of the Muslim Marine almost in the shadow of his father's mosque.

"Officer David?" The soft knock at her window made her jump, but she quickly rolled down her window when she recognized the Imam.

"It's Agent David now. My apologies, I did not mean to interrupt your morning."

'Not at all. There is time before morning prayers; come, join me for tea."

-NCIS-

"Tony? You here all night?"

DiNozzo straightened up, not looking at Gibbs. "Sorry, Boss, I..."

"No need to apologize, I'm going for coffee, do you want some?"

The question was too close to the words when Kate died and Tony frantically shook his head. "No, no, he's not dead. Don't say that, don't be nice."

Gibbs wasn't sure what Tony meant, but anyone could see the guilt that was tearing him apart. "Not your fault, Tony, not your fault." It looked like the younger man wanted to put his fist through something, so Gibbs grabbed his arm and pulled him close. "Do you hear me? It's not your fault."

Giving in to his grief for a moment, Tony let his head drop onto Gibbs' shoulder as he remembered the look on McGee's face as the helicopter left. "It sure feels like it is."

Gibbs looked past Tony to McGee's empty desk. "I know it does."

-NCIS-

When the predicted break in the weather arrived, Peter King was waiting at Wilson Ridge. His snow-cat could have taken him right to the base camp where the agents had watched Hopper, but he did not want to alert the agent, if he'd managed to survive. It took longer, but even hiking the last mile got him there just at daybreak. He looked carefully at the scene. "Well, Agent McGee, it looks like you know more about survival than your team gave you credit for."

If he'd been hoping to find a survivor, the signs at the base camp would have been encouraging. King first saw the torn remnants of a shirt tied to a near-by tree, the bright color immediately catching his attention. A clear plastic sheet carefully covered the computers. Charcoal from the fire had been used to draw an arrow on the inside of the plastic, protected from the elements, pointing to a cave further up the mountain. Large, heavy rocks and timbers wedged the plastic wrapped computer towers securely in place. He quickly sliced through the plastic, shredding and tearing it, letting the electronics tumble back to the ground. A piece of waterproof paper with a detailed location of the cave was found before being wadded up and shoved into his pocket, while the shirt was pushed deep into a snowbank. Next, he lifted one of the computers up and poured most of a bottle of bear attractant onto the snow beneath it, letting it drain through the snow to the frozen dirt. The computer tower was laid back down, sealing the attractant in place, protecting it until the Spring thaw when the bears would wake angry and hungry.

By the time the mountain was opened back up and either agency returned, the bears would have the thin metal destroyed, along with the delicate electronic components inside the cases. Hopper's lawyer would demand to examine the original computers and the agents would have to admit they had been left behind and destroyed by the elements and the wildlife. Bring in the tragic death of the agent that had frozen to death waiting for his team to return, and the obvious incompetence of the investigators would cause the case to self-destruct and Hopper would be in the clear without suspicion. Even better, King thought, was the money waiting for him in an overseas account.

Ready to leave, King pulled the shirt back out of the snowbank. Now scattered with bits of dirt and vegetation, it would fit with the story he'd prepared. All that was left was to look exhausted and soaked when he stumbled back into the ranger station while the next wave of the storm was at its worst.

-NCIS-

"Abigail, my dear, where are you?" Ducky looked around the dimly lit lab, finally spotting her wedged between her desk and the wall. "Oh, Abby."

She sniffled, but shifted towards Ducky as he joined her on the floor. "He must be so cold and hungry, Ducky."

His heart heavy with the knowledge of McGee's chances, ducky remained silent and let her sob out her grief. This was one time he had no story that would help ease the burden they all carried.

-NCIS-

"You are an agent now, does that mean you have left your old life behind?"

Ziva accepted the offered tea as she thought back to a stifling prison cell in a hot desert. "Perhaps it is more truthful to say that it left me behind, but I have moved on. I have become a naturalized citizen and my team... my team is my family."

"Yet, you are troubled."

The third time was no less painful than the first two times as she told of her teammate trapped up on the mountain and the agony of waiting. The Imam refilled her tea as he thought about what she had told him and his own memories from when the team investigated his son's murder.

"Your team was very kind to my family at a very difficult time, Agent David. I will ask our members to remember Agent McGee in their prayers."

-NCIS-

When the weather first broke, McGee stayed put, believing that the message he left at the base camp was enough to bring the rescuers to him, but he quickly realized that the break was too short to get anyone up the mountain. He waited and hoped that the next break would last longer, weaving flexible and thin branches together to pass the time. Even his team needed enough time to mobilize.


	4. Chapter 4

The call to MTAC had them through the door in moments, Ziva still in her coat and scarf. The scene in the rangers station was hectic as men rushed to care for a soaked and chilled member of the rescue squad. Martin Taylor stood in front of the screen, a somber expression on his face. Vance was the first to speak.

"Ranger Taylor, you said you had news."

"Yes, I do." His face and his tone told them the news wasn't good. "One of my guys managed to take a snow-cat part way up the mountain and wait there for a break in the weather. There was enough of a window that he was able to make it to your abandoned base camp."

Gibbs cringed at the word abandoned, but forced himself to listen.

"Did you find any sign of our missing man?"

Peter King chose that moment to join the conversation, wrapped in a warm blanket, his face red and windburned. "I'm sorry, Director Vance. The wind tore the camp up pretty good. I searched as long as I could, but the only sign of Agent McGee I could find was this." He pointed to the battered piece of cloth Taylor picked up from the desk top. "Was that Agent McGee's?"

DiNozzo's voice broke as he answered. "That's Probie's... McGee's shirt." Vance looked to Gibbs who also nodded as he stared at the screen, remembering the young man warmly dressed with the deep blue corduroy shirt over a flannel one. Tony's continued words forced Gibbs to return his attention to the conversation. "But it doesn't make any sense. Why would McGee take off his shirt?"

From his position in the back of the room, Ducky moved closer, dreading what he had to tell them, but wanting them to hear it from him and not from strangers. "I'm afraid that in the later stages of hypothermia, the patient feels excessive warmth. The shedding of clothes is one of the final symptoms."

"Final symptoms?"

"I'm afraid so, Tony."

"Oh, Probie, I'm sorry." Tony turned away from the screen and watched Abby as she leaned back against the wall and slid to the floor, covering her face.

Gibbs couldn't turn away, staring at Taylor and King, looking for the slightest flicker of hope. "Are you going back out there?"

Taylor shook his head. "I'm sorry, Gibbs, at this point it's a recovery, not a rescue." King stood and joined him, a sorrowful look on his face.

"It's one of the worst storms I've ever experienced up there, Agent Gibbs. Every landmark is now buried in snow. You remember the deep ravine I pointed out to you that first day?"

Gibbs did remember the jagged crevice, the deepest of almost a dozen to the east of their surveillance camp. It had been almost eight feet wide and at least twice that deep. He nodded, waiting for King to continue.

"Right now, they're totally filled with snow. If he lost his bearing and..."

King didn't need to finish, Gibbs could visualize McGee, cold and disorientated, stumbling through the trees and falling through the loose snow, quickly trapped and covered. "We won't find his body until the snow melts this spring."

"I am sorry for your loss, but I'm afraid you're right." Taylor knew how useless his words were, but there was really nothing else he could say.

-NCIS-

Fifty feet of 550 Paracord sounded like a lot when McGee first studied survival techniques, but now he wished he had more as he cut into the thin cord to finish making his snares and his snowshoes. He'd feel a lot more confident going out with a safety line that he could follow back to the cave. Instead, he fixated on a large tree near the entrance of the cave, planning on keeping it in his line of sight as he laid out his snares. He'd managed to construct seven snares and now carefully placed them on the edge of some large bushes, hoping that the rabbits would be looking for bits of vegetation.

On the off-chance that he'd run into something bigger, McGee had his SIG tucked tight against his body. A deer would keep him fed for quite some time, but the energy he'd use up chasing it down and hauling it back would make it risky, indeed. Add in the possibility of predators attracted by the catch, and he quickly decided that unless a deer came up to him, it wasn't worth the risk.

By the time he had the last snare placed, it was early evening. His hands and feet were becoming numb and he turned back towards his landmark, only to find it hidden by the blowing snow. Tim fought down his rising panic as he blinked and squinted, trying to see through the dimming light and increasing snow. Finally, he started backtracking along the trail of snares, hoping that the first snare would be close enough to the big tree to be able to clearly see it. Counting backwards, he had just reached snare number three when a loud crack echoed around him and he saw a newly fallen pine tree, half buried in the snow. He hadn't paid attention to the various species of trees, it was too much effort to see the bark patterns and needles in the snow, but now that this tree was grounded, he staggered in relief. An Eastern White Pine, with its edible inner bark. Despite the numbness in his hands, he managed to wield his survival knife enough to peel off one section for his dinner.

Feeling a calmness he hadn't felt since his nightmare had begun, Tim stood facing what he believed was the direction of his landmark tree. As he waited, the snow thinned and his tree became visible. A straight path was possible, but he had no idea what was under the snow, so he followed the path he'd made earlier. Once back in the cave Tim was grateful that he'd already started his firebed for the night and could concentrate on cooking some of the bark. He was tempted to start chewing on the bark right there and then, but uncooked bark was too fibrous to eat. Instead, he held strips over the flames, letting them sear until the edges were bubbly and charred. He'd known how nutritious the bark would be, but he hadn't realized how comforting it would be to eat something warm.

-NCIS-

Over the next five days, McGee fell into a basic routine as the storms continued to rage. The snares continued to be empty, as even the small critters hid from the violent winds. Luckily, he had the fallen tree to rely on and every day he peeled off and brought back as much of the sweet bark as he could carry, knowing the longer it remained on the downed tree, the more difficult it would be to remove. His simple and basic first fire pit was replaced with a more efficient one dug deeper into the ground with a second hole next to it that angled into the deep pit, creating a chimney and allowing for a hotter fire that used less wood. After an afternoon spent reinforcing the windbreak that served as the door to the cave, the new fire kept his cave warm enough to not need the wood consuming firebed every night.

His supply of water purification tablets was running low, so Tim began to construct a cooking bowl. The article he'd read hadn't convinced him it would work, but with nothing else to lose, he used his survival saw to cut a large chunk of a downed tree before burning out the center half way down. After using a smaller knife to scrape out the charred wood and rub it smooth, he was able to boil water in the makeshift bowl by dropping hot rocks in it.

On the sixth day, the skies cleared and Tim joyfully pulled on his sunglasses and gloves before zipping up his coat and heading down the mountain to their original camp. Gibbs and Tony would be surprised at how well he fended for himself, and he couldn't wait to see the look of their faces when they arrived.

Tim slowed down as he arrived at the site, seeing the damage. The winds had piled the snow into large drifts to the East, that he'd expected, but he hadn't expected the carefully protected electronics to have been so tossed around without disturbing the piles of rocks and logs that had surrounded them. Other things didn't add up either, like the missing shirt he'd left as a signal, gone without a bit of damage to the branch it had been tied to, not even a snagged thread in the rough bark. A corner of his mind was screaming at him that this was not the work of the elements, but he silenced the traitorous thoughts and got to work starting a signal fire.

Once the small fire was putting out a steady stream of smoke from the greenery he was burning, Tim settled in to wait for his ride.


	5. Chapter 5

Respect and the joint operation put the black bands on the badges of the FBI before they arrived at NCIS but they weren't prepared for the mood of devastation that permeated the building. Half way through the briefing, Fornell caught Sack's attention and jerked his head towards the door. Understanding, Ron stood and slipped out, leaving Tobias at the conference table with Gibbs while DiNozzo stood at the window, appearing lost in his own thoughts.

"McGee was a good man, Gibbs"

"Yeah, he was."

"The best." Tony's voice was rough and pain filled, but if Fornell was honest with himself, Gibbs didn't sound much better and he looked worse.

"Jethro, what's going on? You've lost people before."

"Lost them to a lot reasons, but never to my own hand before."

"You didn't kill him, Gibbs."

"He froze to death alone up there, Tobias, alone. It would have been more merciful if I had shot him. I need coffee." Gibbs kicked his chair back and left the room, leaving Fornell alone with DiNozzo. DiNozzo didn't turn until the door slammed shut again.

"I'm not sure if this is... if this is something we're going to come back from, Fornell. Might be better off taking the time to bring another team up to speed."

"Don't you owe it to McGee to finish the job?"

-NCIS-

Ron Sacks automatically went to the Team Gibbs corner of the squad room, expecting to be alone, to find Ziva at her desk. "Agent David, I didn't realize you were here. You weren't involved in the briefing."

She nodded slowly, never looking away from her monitor. "The computer searches that McGee made look so easy are much more difficult than they appeared."

"He's going to be hard to replace."

"Impossible," Ziva finally looked up as she corrected him. "McGee will be impossible to replace."

-NCIS-

The longer McGee waited, the more uncomfortable he became. Where was his ride, why wasn't his team rushing up the mountain to get him? For the first time, he considered hiking out on his own, but the short distance from the cave back to the original camp had his ankle throbbing, even heavily braced and using a walking stick. If he was going to walk out, it would have to wait until the pain in his leg lessened. Instead, he stared at the sky, watching for any sign of a helicopter. Eventually the light began to fade and he started his trek back to the cave, detouring to his snare line one more time.

-NCIS-

Ducky was waiting for Gibbs when he arrived back with his coffee. "Jethro, we must speak about Abigail. Timothy's situation is tearing her apart."

"His situation? You mean the fact that I left the boy behind and he died cold and alone believing that we were going to show up any second to bring him home? Or maybe the fact that he sacrificed his relationship with his family to protect the rest of us in Somalia?"

"Jethro..." The reproving tone stopped him in his tracks, and Gibbs dropped his head, resting his chin on his chest.

"Damn, you didn't deserve that. You're probably the only innocent person in this whole mess, you and Palmer."

"The rest of you are not exactly guilty, my old friend."

Gibbs ignored the comment. "Where is Abby? I'll... I'll think of something to tell her."

Ducky knew that was as good as he would get for now. "She is at Timothy's apartment with the dog."

-NCIS-

Tony threw his coat at his chair as he paced back and forth. Ziva watched him, but didn't comment as she continued to work on the computer files. Finally he grabbed a chair and spun it around before he sat next to her, straddling the extra chair. "Fornell's right, we need to put Hopper away for Probie. He deserves at least that."

"He deserved much more than that, Tony."

"Yeah, I know, Ziva." DiNozzo let the pain show for just a second, "but right now, that's all we've got to give him. Let's make sure none of Hopper's people slip away."

-NCIS-

As was becoming his routine, Tim carefully checked each snare, adjusting it with more precision as he noticed tiny footprints indicating trails through the brush. He'd reset five of the snares when he came upon a surprise. Snare six was holding a frightened rabbit, it's large eyes staring at him.

"Oh."

It was so simple in theory, but now that he was standing there with a knife in one hand the next step was much more difficult than he'd thought it would be. The scientist in him knew that if he didn't get some sort of protein in his system soon he would be in serious trouble, not to mention the added calories and fat. The edible layer from the bark and the tea he was making from the needles might give him many needed nutrients, but in the long term it wasn't enough.

Taking a deep breath and tightening his grip on the knife, Tim picked up the small animal by the scruff of its neck. "I'm sorry, Mr. Bunny. I don't have any choice." Quickly, as to not cause any unneeded suffering, he slid the knife into the rabbit's heart, instantly killing it. He moved downwind of the snares before cleaning and skinning his kill, not noticing the tears running down his face.

-NCIS-

"Abby?" Gibbs found her sitting cross-legged on McGee's bed, Jethro's head in her lap.

Her hair was down and she wore no make-up. "He knows, Gibbs, he knows his daddy isn't coming home."

Gibbs looked at the canine. There was a sadness in those dark brown eyes, but he didn't know if it was knowledge or an awareness of the guilt Abby was projecting. "We're going to have to find him a new home, Abs."

"No, no, not yet." She tightened her grip on the dog. "Besides, Tony and I already paid the rent for next month."

"He needs more than an apartment."

"I know." She laid down next to Jethro, burying her face in his soft fur. "I know."

Gibbs sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her hair, not surprised when she fell asleep. He was staring off into space when a cold nose against his hand startled him. "Hey, boy, how ya' doing?" The soft whimper was heartbreaking and Gibbs stood to pace, trying to ignore the canine eyes that watched him as he moved.

Eventually, he found himself in front of McGee's computer desk. He tapped each of the bobbleheads on the top shelf before he sat in the chair. The desk was neat and tidy, only a small stack of papers on the surface next to the keyboard. Gibbs idly picked up the papers, freezing when he read the first one. "Survival supplies, he bought survival gear?" Gibbs held onto the packing list as he searched the apartment, finally finding the flattened box among the recycling, ready to be taken out.

A flicker of hope started churning in his gut and Gibbs returned to McGee's computer, turning the machine on. While it booted up, he went in to wake Abby, before changing his mind. Instead, he dialed Ziva's number, not waiting for her to say anything.

"Tell me how to see what web pages McGee was looking at on his computer."

-NCIS-

"Tell me again why you just didn't kill him?"

King smiled over his glass of bourbon. "Eventually, when things thaw out, they'll find his body. No reason to make his death suspicious. He's just a computer geek, it's not like he had a chance to survive that blizzard."

Hopper returned the smile. "I must admit I am looking forward to hearing them try to spin this in court. Just how does a federal agency justify leaving one of their agents behind in a record breaking storm?" He pulled an envelope out of his jacket and tossed it on the table. "It's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. King."

Peter King picked up the envelope and slid it into his own jacket pocket. "The pleasure is all mine."

-NCIS-

He'd been hungry the entire time he'd been stranded up on the mountain. Over a week and a half without a solid meal was certainly taking its toll, but it wasn't until he could smell the fragrance of roasting meat, that he realized just how hungry he truly was. It was hard to wait while the butterflied carcass cooked, but after everything he'd been through, McGee wasn't going to risk his life with a possible parasite. Every ten minutes he risked burned fingers turning and rotating the meat, until the juices ran clear and the meat was firm and well done. His groans of pleasure were almost embarrassing, but there was no one else there to hear as he gulped down the hot food.

Too soon he was down to the bones of his meal, licking and sucking every bit of flavor before he was satisfied. All that was left was a small pile of fat that he'd carefully set aside and now he used that fat to break in his new cooking surface. While he waited for his non-existent ride, he'd used the time to strip down the computers, bringing back the precious hard drives along with several sections of the metal cases. It had been hard on his hands, but now he had a grilling surface. Using the fat from the rabbit as a cooking grease, he quickly cooked up piles of the shredded bark, turning it into a tasty and crunchy quick snack that was much easier to eat than the fire roasted strips he'd been limited to.

-NCIS-

That little nugget of hope continued to grow as Gibbs went through the viewed pages on McGee's computer. If he'd retained only half of what he'd read, Timothy McGee went up that mountain with an expert's level of survival knowledge, even if it was all theoretical. That, combined with the compact survival kit he appeared to have put together, was enough to suggest he might have survived much longer than anyone had given him credit for. Restless, Gibbs went through every drawer and cubbyhole in the compact apartment, looking for any of the items McGee had shipped to him.

The packaging that had held a medium sized roll of Paracord was found in the garbage, convincing Gibbs that McGee had, indeed, been well stocked and prepared when tragedy struck. Energized, Gibbs returned to the computer to look at the last several pages on the list. It was the last web page that McGee visited that had Gibbs calling Vance.

"McGee had a survival kit with him and he knew the location of a cave further up on the mountain."

~What? Are you sure?~

"I'm at his place right now, looking at the evidence."

~What do you need?~

With that simple question, the plan was put together for Gibbs to leave at first light with a ranger as a guide and the Marine Rescue Squad standing by, waiting for his signal.

Gibbs woke Abby, and after recovering from the hug he started studying the map she printed for him.


	6. Chapter 6

**a/n - Good grief, you didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you? It's an Emerald story, after all.**

* * *

"You were lucky last time, I can send someone else this time." Taylor wasn't convinced this latest attempt was worth the risk.

Peter didn't want to look too eager. "Like I said, I was the last one up there. If Gibbs is determined to go, at least I can show him where I've already looked." It wasn't until Martin Taylor left the room that Peter let the anger flash across his face. He had a one way reservation to a warm island with no extradition treaty, but his flight didn't leave for another twenty four hours, so he couldn't risk Gibbs stumbling across his man's body so close to where they knew Peter had searched. He'd have to make sure the older man had a tragic accident while searching for his missing man. If he played it right, he could slip back into town and be out of the country before anyone realized that Gibbs was also missing.

-NCIS-

"We should go with you, Gibbs."

Gibbs shook his head as he loaded supplies in his truck. "Neither of you have cold weather training, Ziva. You'll just slow me down."

"He's right, Ziva." Tony wasn't happy about it, but he knew the trained sniper could move faster without them than with them. "But if you miss a check-in, we're calling in the Marines."

Gibbs took the satellite phone from Vance. "Every six hours, because we're going to be traveling fast. Only got a few hour window before more storms start hitting the area." He started to climb into the truck, but DiNozzo stopped him.

"Boss, give him this when you find him, okay?" A Nutter Butter was pressed into his hand and Gibbs smiled before slipping it into his coat pocket, next to the packet of hot chocolate mix Ziva had given him earlier. His other pocket already held a flask from Ducky. Abby wrapped a bright red skull and crossbones scarf around his neck.

"He's gonna be so cold when you find him, Gibbs. Make sure you put this on him."

Gibbs just kissed her on the cheek before he finally climbed in the cab, exchanged a look with Vance, and pulled out of the lot. It was a short drive to where he was meeting the chopper that would take him to where King was waiting for him.

-NCIS-

With a full stomach, McGee slept in that morning, letting the sun climb high before he ventured out of his bed. Even without the coals under the dirt, he'd been warm wrapped in the Mylar blanket. Hot pine needle tea and a handful of the shredded, fried bark was enough to get him started as he strapped his snowshoes back on and headed out to start his daily chores.

-NCIS-

It was mid-afternoon when King and Gibbs reached the base camp, leaving their snowmobiles in a nearby clearing. One glance told King that McGee was alive and mobile and had been back to the base camp since he'd been there. Gibbs also noticed the missing hard drives and saw it as a good sign.

Gibbs had checked in just before they reached the camp, so King knew that he had about eight hours before Gibbs' people would be alarmed enough to mobilize, but by then it would be dark, giving him a few more hours. The silver haired man was following a disturbance in the snow that led up the mountain, and King wrapped his hand tightly around one of the short logs that had once protected the computers. He kept his movements natural as he eased closer to Gibbs, trying not to telegraph his intent until he was close enough to swing.

-NCIS-

Something about the mountain was different that day, but McGee wasn't sure what it was, until he heard the yell. He dropped the bottles he was packing with snow and headed towards the source of the sound as fast as he could with his injured ankle. His gait was unwieldy, even with the brace, snowshoes and walking stick, but he knew something was wrong. He slipped and slid in his haste, his gut telling him to stay silent. What he'd heard was the call of a man in trouble, a voice he recognized instantly.

When Tim broke through the trees he saw Gibbs battling it out with a man he only vaguely recognized. Gibbs' head was bloody and he was obviously on the losing end of the fight. His attacker kicked at his knee and Gibbs went down, landing face first in the deep snow. Gibbs struggled to raise up, choking on the snow as King started to swing his makeshift club one more time. McGee yelled out for the man to freeze, knowing that it was futile. Instinct allowed him to pull his weapon at the same time, and two shots hit King high in the chest, staggering him before he could strike Gibbs a final time. King looked up as McGee came closer, gun still in his outstretched hand.

"Boss? Boss, you okay?"

It only was a few seconds in reality, but it seemed much longer as McGee watched the struggle on King's face before he tried to lift the heavy branch again and step closer to Gibbs. One final shot from McGee's gun sent King cartwheeling down the mountain, coming to rest just above the clearing where the snowmobiles were sitting, heavy with supplies. As Tim watched, the snow shifted, forming cracks.

Knowing what was coming and how little time they had, McGee dropped his walking stick and rushed towards his fallen team leader, biting back a scream as the throbbing in his ankle gave way to sharp pain. Gibbs was moving, but his actions were uncoordinated and Tim just pulled him up and started dragging him towards the trees. They made it just in time, the trees and the fact that they were on the outer edge of the avalanche gave them a fighting chance.

Tim clung to a tree, his other arm around Gibbs, as he watched a thick layer of snow literally peel away from the mountain as it moved downward, destroying everything in its path. They were above the top edge of the avalanche, but he knew it wouldn't take much to start a second slide further up the mountain.

It was over in a matter of moments and Tim stared at the changed landscape. King's body and the two snowmobiles were nowhere to be seen, even the remains of the base camp had been wiped off the mountain. He turned to Gibbs, who was staring at him, to see how glazed his eyes were. The older man was also wet and cold from his fight in the snow with King, and Tim knew he had to get him warmed up quickly as hypothermia and a head injury were a bad combination.

"Let's get you warmed up, Boss."

Once Tim had them both upright and one of Gibbs' arms draped over his shoulder, Gibbs reached up with his other hand and patted McGee on the cheek. "I'm here... here to rescue you, McGee."

Tim stood still for a moment, looking down at where the snowmobiles had been, where he'd seen Gibbs' guide try to kill him and then looked up at the rapidly darkening sky and approaching storm clouds. He felt the added weight as Gibbs lost the battle to stay conscious. "Yeah? Well as far as rescues go, this one sucks, Boss."


	7. Chapter 7

Tony sat at his desk, the picture of total misery as he stared at surveillance video of Hopper. Eyes red and shirt wrinkled, he'd kept up the facade for the first few hours, at least until Ducky talked Abby into going home to rest. Now, he was slumped in his chair, his chin resting on his hand while he watched their scumbag with various other scumbags in their Italian suits and cashmere overcoats. It wasn't until a video of Hopper meeting with a man dressed in flannel and denim that Tony sat up straight.

"No! Oh, no, no, no, that can't be."

"What did you find?" Fornell looked up from where he was looking over Ziva's shoulder as Sacks asked his question. Sacks quickly set the tray of coffees he was carrying down on McGee's desk before moving towards Tony's desk. He frowned as he stared at the image frozen on DiNozzo's screen. "Guy looks familiar, but..."

"He's one of the rangers up there, and the guide they sent up with Gibbs." By now Tony was up on his feet and backed into Sacks. "We've got to get word to the Boss."

Ziva was already dialing the satellite phone Gibbs had with him. After a moment, she shook her head. "It went immediately to voice mail."

"Gibbs wouldn't have it turned off."

She tried to sound reassuring. "He might, if he was worried about the battery."

"He had three batteries with him." Vance's words floated down from the catwalk as he took the steps two at a time. "DiNozzo, SitRep."

It only took a few minutes to bring the Director up to speed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, already feeling the beginnings of what he privately referred to as one of his MCRT headaches. "Get Miss Sciuto back in here. We need another copy of that map they found on McGee's computer and we need a trace on that Sat phone. David, you start a background check on King, hell, on all the rangers up there. Just our luck for there to be an accomplice we don't know about, pull whoever you need. Agent Fornell, will you be staying to help?" DiNozzo didn't wait to hear Fornell answer the Director.

"Of course, Gibbs is my friend." Fornell was splitting his attention between Vance and his phone, and he closed his eyes tightly as he ended the call. "Just confirmed it, King was the one to give directions to our driver when he went to get the equipment. There was no way to get that truck up the path they were sent on. They were just lucky to break the axle close enough to the ranger station to get rescued themselves."

"He's been playing us all along. Did he know McGee was up there before we told them?"

"King was not on the helicopter that retrieved us, but he may have had a contact among the crew."

Fornell thought about Vance's question and what Ziva had added. "He was already set up to detour the truck, that was his real target."

"But why?" Sacks had been silent up to that point. "All the data was being transmitted back here; he had to have known that."

Vance had enough experience with politics and lawyers to know. "Hopper's attorneys could plant a seed of doubt if it came out in court that the original data was lost, claim we altered the files."

Sacks thought about it for a moment. "So, McGee was mostly a victim of circumstances and a bad joke. Wonder how Hopper's lawyers will spin his death?"

"He is not dead, not yet." Ziva looked like she could tear his head off with one hand and Vance tried to diffuse the situation.

"Let's make sure they don't get the chance." He didn't explain if he meant by finding McGee alive or by proving Hopper and King's involvement in the tragedy.

-NCIS-

Tony let himself into McGee's apartment and stood perfectly still while Jethro sniffed him. Apparently passing inspection, the large dog turned and padded back into the bedroom. Tony followed him, knowing that was where he'd find Abby. As expected, she was asleep on the bed, one of McGee's shirts tucked under her head. He knew that there was no way this conversation was going to end well.

"Abs, Abby, need you to wake up."

She shifted and slowly opened her eyes. "Tony?" Instantly awake, she sat up. "Tony, did he find Timmy already? Are they on their way back?"

As if dealing with a skittish colt, Tony kept his voice low and even. "Not exactly, Abby, but we need you to come back to the Yard."

"What's going on? Something's wrong isn't it? What's happened? Tell me, tell me, Tony." She grabbed at him, almost choking him with his tie.

He grabbed her hands, forcing her to be still. "Abby... Abby, listen to me. Gibbs needs your help, but you can't help him if you don't calm down." She froze, closed her eyes and took a deep breath, forcibly calming herself before opening her eyes again. This time her voice was flat.

"Tell me what went wrong."

His own voice just as flat, he caught her up on what had been discovered before walking her to McGee's computer. Once she sent the map link to Ziva, he pulled her to her feet, neither one of them speaking as they locked the apartment door behind them.

-NCIS-

Taking one look at her face, the other women scattered when Ziva entered the ladies room. Grateful for the privacy, she leaned against the sink, her white knuckled grip on the porcelain the only thing holding her up. It seemed impossible that Gibbs was now caught up in this never ending mightmare. She had kept her focus, needing to be the strong one of the team, and it had worked too, until she'd opened her desk drawer and found the rest of the box of hot chocolate packets.

Closing her eyes and bowing her head, she remembered back to her first winter in DC and the first day of snow when McGee had shown up at her doorstep to introduce her to the wonder of hot chocolate with marshmallows before rolling up his sleeves and teaching her how to put chains on her car. She'd been warmed by more than the hot beverage that day and had never forgotten it. What she couldn't remember was if she'd ever really thanked him. She carefully regulated her breathing, deep breaths in through her nose and out through her pursed lips, forcing a calm before opening her eyes and looking at her reflection. Her Star of David hung free of her shirt, catching the light and she stared at it in the mirror.

"Please, oh, please, keep them safe."

-NCIS-

Only half way back to the cave and McGee was drenched in sweat and ready to drop. Gibbs was drifting in and out of consciousness, only able to help for a few moments at a time. Tim leaned them against a tree as he caught his breath. It was already getting dark and hard to see. Carefully he located his landmarks and picked out his path.

"Boss? Boss... GIBBS?" Eventually the blue eyes opened. They weren't totally clear, but he seemed somewhat aware of his surroundings. Tim figured that was as good as he was going to get. "We'll be warm and dry soon, I promise, but you've got to help me, okay?"

"O...okay, what do... do you need, McGee?" The slow and slurred speech was worrisome, but he didn't have a lot of choices in the matter, not if he was going to keep them both alive.

"Just put one foot in front of the other, Boss. I'll steer us, but I need you to try and walk. Can you do that?"

Surprisingly Gibbs looked a little offended by the question, even as he was tilting. "Been walking since before you were born."

McGee just shook his head. "Good to know, Boss, but it's the next hour I'm concerned about." Gibbs started walking and McGee turned him in the right direction without saying another word.


	8. Chapter 8

Vance met DiNozzo and Abby in her lab. She didn't say anything, just went straight to her computer and started working. Tony casually walked over to stand next to Vance. "Are the Marine airborne yet?"

"There's a problem." At the workbench Abby stiffened at his words and looked over her shoulder, but Tony was the one to ask the question.

"Now what? I thought they were ready to move."

"They were, are. There's no easy way to say this..."

Tony's jaw clamped down, so Abby gave the Director their answer. "Then just say it, Leon."

Vance nodded, his expression telling them that he was struggling too. "Satellite imagery shows that there's been an avalanche up there. It's too much of a risk to send a chopper up there in the dark. If they can't watch it, the pressure from the rotors could bring down the rest."

"But if the Boss is trapped in the snow..."

"I'm sorry, DiNozzo." Vance reached out and rested his hand on Tony's shoulder. "The avalanche happened over three hours ago. If he was trapped, it's already too late."

Abby bowed her head and resumed her search. It only took a few minutes before she had an answer for them. "There's no signal coming... the satellite phone is not active. He must have it turned off."

Despite the discussion earlier in the bullpen, deep down Tony knew that Gibbs would have never turned off his link to them. He stepped closer and reached out to comfort the Goth. "Abby..."

She shook his hand off. "No, Tony, he's not dead. He just has the phone off and I'm going to wait right here until he turns it back on. You'll see, he's going to turn the phone back on any time now and I have to be ready, so let me work."

While she argued with Tony, Vance made a quiet phone call before jerking his head and leading DiNozzo away from her. "Dr. Mallard is on his way to keep an eye on Miss Sciuto."

"But..."

"Let her work through this in her own way. It's the only way she'll ever come to terms with it." Vance looked over Tony's shoulder and gave a brief nod to Ducky as he came in. Tony turned and the two men watched as Ducky took Abby into his arms, riding out the waves of emotions as she sobbed and ranted. Finally Vance tugged on DiNozzo's sleeve and got him moving towards the door. "Ziva and Fornell are going over the satellite photos of the avalanche site, they could use a pair of fresh eyes."

"Yeah, sure." Tony followed Vance out of the lab, but stumbled to a stop out in the hallway. "I'll catch up with you, I just... need a minute, sir."

Vance took in the pale, sweaty skin and grabbed Tony's arm just as his knees buckled, easing him to the floor. He joined him on the floor and pushed Tony's head down between his knees. "Easy, take some deep breaths." When the color started returning to Tony's face, Vance let him up. "You okay now?"

"Okay? We're a long way from okay, Director Vance." Tony knew his voice was tinged with more than a touch of hysterics, but he couldn't stop the words from tumbling out. "My best friend is probably dead, because of me and now Gibbs... Gibbs, because of me. It's never going to be okay."

"Where was Gibbs?"

"What?" Confused by the question, Tony looked up at Vance for the first time.

"When you told McGee to stay and wait for the truck, where was Gibbs? Did he leave the mountain early?"

"Of course not. He was right there with us." His own words finally registering, DiNozzo looked back at Vance again. "The Boss didn't say anything to me about McGee."

"Gibbs knew the truck was on the way, same as you. That's why he took full responsibility."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Vance knew there would be no easy fixes. "Probably not now, but eventually. Chances are that King killed McGee and then killed Gibbs to cover it up. He's the one responsible, not you."

"Do you think King got off the mountain?"

"I hope," Vance gave a grim smile, "that the mountain took her own revenge and he's buried in that avalanche."

-NCIS-

Gratefully, McGee eased Gibbs down onto the ground next to the firepit. The fire had gone out after so many hours, but the coals were still putting out some heat. He tugged his ice coated gloves off and started feeding bits of tinder into the fire, letting it flare back to life and build back up. Next, he started the steps needed to prepare the hot pine tea. It might not be coffee, but it would help warm the older man. As soon as that was done, he turned his attention to the firebed. Now used to the constant cold and exhausted from the amount of wood it needed, he hadn't used the firebed for the last several nights, but it would be needed to get Gibbs warmed up. Operating on instinct, he prepared the bed while he mentally reviewed their options. With two people trapped up there, it had effectively cut his food supply in half. That meant there was only about two weeks worth left of the bark he'd been collecting, only one if he wasn't able to supplement their food stores with some meat.

That led to their second problem. His line of snares was gone, destroyed in the avalanche. Not only did he have to make new snares, he had to find a new place to lay them out. Water was going to be their third problem. He'd dropped two of bottles he'd cut open to collect snow and the one remaining bottle would not be enough to provide for both of them. It was already dark, but he knew that by morning the bottles would be gone, taken by the wind or the predators that roamed the mountain at night. As soon as he had the tea prepared, Tim got Gibbs upright.

"Boss, here, drink this. It'll help get you warmed back up."

"What?" Gibbs tried to shake the fuzziness out of his head, only to regret the movement. Tim reached out to prevent him from falling over.

"It's pine needle tea. Not the best tasting stuff in the world, but it's hot and nutritious." McGee helped him hold the makeshift cup as he took a swallow. Other than a wrinkling of his nose, Gibbs didn't react to the strong, bitter taste. As soon as Gibbs seemed able to hold onto it, McGee let go and moved to his backpack. He'd carefully not used the flashlight up until this point, but now there was no real choice. Gibbs saw him pull out the flashlight and frowned.

"You're not going back out there tonight?"

"Don't have much of a choice." He pointed to the long fire that was blazing behind them. "Don't add any more wood to that one, but you can keep the other fire going. There's enough wood here for that."

"Why?" Gibbs tried to remember everything he'd skimmed from McGee's computer, but his mind wouldn't wrap around the details.

"I'll show you when I get back."

"Wait." Latching onto a memory, Gibbs fumbled with the inside pocket of his jacket. McGee saw what he was trying to do and helped him. He pulled out a satellite phone with a cracked case. The battery had popped loose and the connectors were broken off. Water oozed out of the crack. Their link to the outside world had taken as much of a beating from King as Gibbs had, but the older man was confident. "You can fix it, right?"

McGee squinted to better see the damage in the firelight. "Maybe, got to get it dried out first. I don't suppose you have an extra battery."

"Sure." Gibbs' face fell. "On the snowmobile." He didn't remember all the details, but he did remember seeing the avalanche take the snowmobiles and all the supplies that were packed on them. "Not much of a rescue, was it McGee?"

The younger man didn't answer as he picked up his gloves and limped out the door, flashlight in hand. He wasn't gone for five minutes before Gibbs could feel his skin crawl and he couldn't imagine being up here alone for as long as McGee had been.

-NCIS-

Tony was silent when he joined Ziva and Fornell. An assortment of pictures of the mountain were laid on the conference room table, both from before and after the avalanche. They had painstakingly marked out the path Gibbs and King would have taken up the mountain, noting the estimated time they would have passed every landmark based on the times Gibbs had called in. The last estimated location was in the center of the damage with the same time stamp as the avalanche. When he reached out and touched the marker on the map, Fornell cleared his throat and explained.

"We figured that he stopped to check what was left of the base camp. Right after his last check-in would have been the most likely time for King to make his move."

Ziva's hair was sloppily tied back and the evening lighting in the room cast strange shadows on her face, highlighting how exhausted she was. "Even if King got the jump on Gibbs, he would have fought back. That is what most likely caused the avalanche, Tony."

"Yeah." Tony could feel the tickle of a tear as it crawled down his face. "King probably killed McGee during his fake rescue attempt."

There was really no answer to that, as they all imagined McGee's joy at being rescued turning to horror as King revealed himself.

Sacks quietly entered the room and joined them at the table. "King is supposed to leave on vacation tomorrow, but he only bought a one way ticket."

"Let me guess." Tony wanted to both laugh and cry. "Someplace warm with no extradition treaty."

"You got it. We'll have a team at the airport in case he shows up."

"Vance thinks he's buried in that snow."

Ziva looked up at Tony's comment. "If he is, then he got off too easy."

-NCIS-

McGee was doubly grateful that he'd climbed higher to collect snow that day, otherwise the bottles would have been lost. He knew he'd been on the west side of the tall tree that had been damaged by lightning. Once he found the tree, he started moving west, carefully sweeping the flashlight's beam across the snow covered ground. A reflection caught his eye and he found one of the bottles, half buried in the snow. He scooped it up and looked around slowly, breathing a sigh of relief when he spotted the other bottle against the base of a tree about twenty feet away.

He was bending down to pick up the second bottle when he heard a deep growl. Tim froze before looking around. Over his shoulder and up in a nearby tree he could see the shine of a pair of yellow eyes. Bringing the flashlight up he got a good look at the mountain lion ready to pounce. For a second he thought about dropping the bottles and running, but he knew that would be a mistake. Instead, he tucked them against his body with the arm that held the light and slowly eased his SIG out before backing away. The cat raised up slightly, watching as he circled around. Tim never looked away until he had enough distance between them for the animal to lose interest in him. He didn't relax until he stumbled into the cave and secured the door behind him. He designed it to keep out the cold and the wind, he had no idea if it would stop a wildcat.

"McGee?" Gibbs was sitting in the same spot Tim had left him, wrapped in the Mylar blanket, with his knees tucked up against his chest and still clutching the empty tea cup Tim had fashioned. He eyed the bottles and was suddenly angry. "You risked your neck out there in the dark for some water bottles?"

Still shaking from his near-miss, Tim felt his own temper flare. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to get water up here? You think we can just eat some snow and call it good?"

Gibbs knew that was a sure way to tip the scale towards hypothermia, but he still only saw the risk – and Tim's shaking hands. "It still wasn't..."

Tim set the two bottles of snow next to the firepit, as close as he could without risking melting the plastic. "It'll take until morning for the snow to thaw. I'll have to pack and thaw those two bottles three times to have one full bottle of water, then we have to boil it. Those are the only three bottles we have, what do you suggest we do if we lose a couple of them?"

"I didn't know." Gibbs realized how out of his element he was. All of his survival training had been for the deserts of the Middle East where melting snow and staying warm wasn't a problem.

"Yeah, well, between the wind, the storm that's coming and the mountain lions, they would have been gone by morning."

"Mountain lions?"

Tim gave a short nod. "Saw one tonight." He swallowed hard, remembering every detail of the cat's face as he started to spread the coals and dirt. Gibbs saw his reaction.

"How close?"

He didn't have to think hard to come up with the answer. "Fifteen, maybe twenty feet. It was up in a tree, hunting."

Gibbs felt his stomach turn over and decided to think about something else. "What are you making?"

"Your bed." By now he was a pro at it and already had it ready. It just needed the time to warm the dirt before he could have Gibbs tucked in.

"What about you?"

"I'll manage." When it looked like the other man was going to argue, he shook his head. "I'm more used to the cold, Boss, and I'm not the one with the head injury."

Gibbs wanted to protest, but he didn't know which of the three McGee's sitting in front of him he should headslap.


	9. Chapter 9

**a/n - Thanks everyone for the wonderful reviews, they do make my day. Someone was wondering how they knew about King in the beginning of the last chapter, remember Tony was studying the surveillence tapes in the beginning of chapter 7 and saw Hopper meeting with someone he recognized...**

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Tony leaned against the window, watching the rising sun as it weakly showed through the snow that was once again falling. He was aware of someone coming up behind him, but he couldn't be bothered to turn around. "They're saying at least another foot of snow up there before it's over. Man, we just can't catch a break."

"I know." It was Ziva standing behind him and she sighed. "Today is Christmas Eve and half of our family is missing. It is not right."

"Probie's family," Tony turned around to look at her. "We should call them and let them know we're not giving up, no matter what the odds are."

"No." They both turned to find Vance standing at the top of the stairs.

"Director, how is his family taking the news, are they on their way?" Tony frowned as he mentally added up the days. "Why aren't they already here?"

"They're not coming, DiNozzo."

"But..."

Vance just shook his head and continued to his office. Tony and Ziva exchanged a look and followed him up the stairs.

"Director, Tim would want his family to know what is going on."

"Yes, Director Vance, McGee is very close to his family."

Vance had long ago determined that the MCRT was the main reason his predecessor had a fully stocked bar in the office. "I've already spoken to his family."

"And?"

He should have known DiNozzo would not let this go and that Gibbs had not told them. "Let's take this into my office." Once in his office, both Tony and Ziva turned down his suggestion to sit.

"Did something happen to Probie's family? Is Sarah all right?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Vance leaned back against his desk. "There's no easy way to say this..."

"Story of our lives lately." Tony looked slightly embarrassed by his outburst. "Sorry, Director Vance."

"Tim's family disowned him. His father has no interest in what happens to him and Sarah is caught in the middle, I'm afraid."

"Why? What possible reason would his parents do that?"

"Tony..."

Ziva reached out and touched DiNozzo's arm before he could say anything else, but she couldn't totally hide the waver in her own voice. "If you do not tell us, we will find out on our own. We owe McGee that much."

She stood still, barely breathing, as Vance told of Mrs. McGee's stroke and the senior McGee's insistence that their son return home immediately. When Vance was done, Ziva turned and left the room without a word.

"Damn it." Vance stared at the closed door. "That is exactly why Gibbs didn't want the two of you to know."

"Yeah, but Gibbs isn't here to take care of it, is he?" Not waiting for an answer, Tony also left the office.

Alone, Vance pulled another personnel file and made another dreaded call, this time to Stillwater.

-NCIS-

Gibbs shifted as he drifted awake. His sleep had been disturbed by regular checks on his head injury, but he was warm and reasonably comfortable. He decided to to sleep until a pretty nurse woke him, but as he faded off, he realized that he could hear the wind blowing. Eyes now open, he could tell that he was still in the cave McGee had brought him to earlier. He tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness stopped him.

"How you feeling, Boss?"

"Warm." Even as he spoke, Gibbs frowned. He'd wanted to tell McGee that he was fine, but none of the McGees sitting by the fire looked convinced. Gibbs made a second attempt to sit up, but this time a hand on his chest stopped him.

"Your pupils are uneven and you weren't coherent most of the night. You need to stay still so you don't make it worse."

As much as he hated to admit to a weakness, Gibbs knew McGee was right. "There's only two of you this morning, so that's progress. Did you get any rest last night?"

"Some, but at least I got a new batch of snares made. I'll get them set as soon as it's light out."

"A new batch?" Gibbs squinted, but in the dim light he couldn't see what McGee was working on.

"Yeah." With a sigh, Tim laid the last snare on the ground next to him. His gloves were warming on the edge of the firepit. He knew he should be grateful to have someone with him, but he couldn't seem to muster the energy. "The avalanche took out the snare line I had set up. I'll have to find a new place to set this one out."

Gibbs rolled onto his side to better see his agent. "Have you caught anything yet?"

Tim couldn't help the slight smile of pride that crossed his face. "Dined pretty well on a roasted rabbit the other day."

"Told Vance you weren't Grizzly Adams, guess I was wrong." Gibbs wasn't sure how McGee would react to his comment, but the flash of anger was a surprise. "Tim?"

McGee looked over Gibbs' shoulder as he forced himself to calm down, changing the subject. "Is someone taking care of Jethro?"

"Abby's been staying there; she and Tony already paid next month's rent on your apartment."

"Rent isn't due until the fifteenth. Were you planning on leaving me out here until then?"

"What? No, of course not."

"I'm not even sure why you're here, Gibbs."

"Did you think we wouldn't try and rescue you?" The look Gibbs got was even worse in stereo, but he bit back his own anger. "This shouldn't have happened, but it was an accident, McGee. It's been tearing Tony and Abby up, feeling guilty for what happened."

"Why did they do it?" Tim sagged as he shook his head. "Do you have any idea what it was like that first night, waiting, believing that you guys were coming back, that somebody was coming back for me? What it was like when Abby just turned her back on me?"

"You know Tony was just joking around and Abby didn't understand what happened. If we'd had any clue that the truck was going to break down, we never would have left you here."

"I would have died if I'd stayed at the base camp. I waited as long as I could, probably too long, but I couldn't wrap my mind around the idea that you'd really leave me behind." McGee's voice faltered for a moment. "I did everything I was suppose to, Boss. I tied one of my shirts to a tree branch as a signal, I used a piece of burned wood to draw an arrow towards the cave, I even left a map of where the cave was, but nobody came for me. One storm after another, but every time there was a break, I waited and I watched. Nobody came, but I didn't want to believe that you'd abandon me so the day that the storms finally broke I hiked back down to the base camp to wait for you."

For the first time since he'd started talking, McGee turned to look directly at Gibbs. Even with his double vision, he could clearly see the devastation on the younger man's face. "The damage was so specific, it looked like someone had vandalized the site. Every clue I left was wiped out but nothing else was disturbed. I didn't want to believe it, so I built a signal fire and I sat there. I stayed there all day, feeding that signal fire, but there wasn't a single helicopter in the sky. Nobody was even looking for me. I didn't know what I'd done..."

"You didn't do anything wrong, McGee. We screwed up, not you. We didn't do thorough enough background checks on the rangers here in the park. The same ranger that tried to kill me was the one that ran the search for you. He brought back your shirt, claimed he found it in a snowbank, convinced us that your body wouldn't be found until spring."

"And you believed him?"

"Yeah, we did. As far as we knew, you had no survival training, no experience, no supplies. It wasn't hard to imagine..." This time it was Gibbs that had to close his eyes and swallow hard. "To imagine you freezing to death up here. It wasn't until I went to check up on Abby at your apartment that I found the packing list on your desk. Went through the recent web pages on your computer, and that's when I found the map and knew that you just might have figured out how to survive."

"You found the map on my computer? You?"

Gibbs started to justify the breech of privacy, then he realized what McGee was getting at. "Okay, Ziva talked me through it, but the point is that as soon as we had a glimmer of hope..." Remembering what was in his pockets, Gibbs pulled out the Nutter Butter Bar. "Tony sent this for you."

Tim stared at the treat that now lay in his hand. A package of instant hot chocolate joined it a moment later as Gibbs continued to explain. "This one's from Ziva. Abby made me promise to wrap that scarf around you, but I think I'll wait until it dries." They both looked over at the scarf, splattered with blood and still soaked from the snow. "Ducky sent along a flask of his best brandy to warm you up."

Something inside Tim relaxed just a tiny bit. "We should have the hot chocolate and brandy before we go to sleep tonight, but how about we have the Nutter Butter with breakfast?"

"With breakfast? What else have you got?" Gibbs' stomach was growling, not that he'd ever admit it as he tried to visualize what McGee had been eating besides the one rabbit. He frowned as the other man laid a flat piece of metal over the firepit and started warming up what looked like brown shavings.

As he warmed the shredded bark, Tim took pity on his boss. "It's the inner bark from an Eastern White Pine. I fried it up with the fat from the rabbit the other day. It'll be warmed up in a minute."

Gibbs looked at the thin metal cook surface and the metal cone again filled with tea. "The computer cases?"

"Yeah, I pulled out the hard drives, but everything else I figured was fair game." He divided the warmed bark in half, putting Gibbs' portion in what had once been the power supply case. The cookie was carefully split in half, and one piece added to the pile. His own half of the treat he quietly slipped into his pocket. As good as it would taste, he had another plan for it.

A tentative nibble and then a smile. "This stuff's actually pretty good." They ate in silence, passing the cup back and forth. Gibbs tried to give the cookie half back to McGee, but Tim just shook his head. "We split the food. You're injured, you need to keep your strength up, too."

"I'm not the only one." Gibbs pointed at McGee's leg. "You're limping worse than when you first twisted it."

McGee shrugged as he pulled on his warm gloves. "I'm managing. I don't know how long it's going to take me to set the snares, I've got to find a new area, and then I'm going to try to roll that downed White Pine to see if I can pull off some more of the bark."

"It's already getting bad out there."

"I know. Hopefully, the phone will be dried out enough when I get back so I can work on it."

Gibbs watched as McGee rotated the pieces of the phone before moving away from the fire. Once he had his snowshoes, snare filled backpack and a walking stick, McGee left without saying another word. Alone, Gibbs lay back down in the still warm bed, frustrated at his own helplessness.


	10. Chapter 10

**a/n - Glad everyone is enjoying this. The question was raised as to why the team isn't planning on going after Tim's body if they think he's dead. Mountain storms are horrific. Every year several hikers are lost on the mountain about 100 miles from my home. If they're lost because of the weather, the bodies can be buried in as much as 12 feet of snow before a storm is over and when that happens, sometimes it's years before the remains are found. Once the window of survival has passed, S&R never risks more lives to recover a corpse. Was the team justified in giving up so quickly? Don't get ahead of me, we've got a long ways to go. :) **

**Okay, that's odd, my scene dividers won't stay centered today. One more try and then I'm posting this chapter, no matter what.**

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Vance quietly arrived in the squad room. "Jackson's flight arrives in an hour. I don't want him to have to catch a cab." Tony and Ziva stood and Tony took the flight information from Vance.

"Not sure if he's going to want to see us, Director."

"He deserves to not have a stranger pick him up, DiNozzo. You better get moving, traffic is going to be nasty." Vance's next stop was the lab, where he found Abby staring at her computer screen under Ducky's watchful eye while Palmer napped in her office. Even without her make-up she was pale, but her red eyes told the real story.

Abby looked up briefly at Vance when he cleared his throat before returning her attention to the monitor. "He still hasn't turned his phone back on, but he will. I know he will."

A warning glance from Ducky told Vance not to discourage her. "I hope so, Abby. I'll have my assistant make a food run." He looked at the line of empty cups, "and some more Caf-Pow." She didn't even react to his words as she once again refreshed her screen.

-NCIS-

Up on the mountain, Tim chose an unusually shaped tree and studied it, committing the shape to memory before walking towards it. Once there, he took one of the data cables he'd pulled from the computers and tied it to a branch that faced the direction of the cave. Once that was done, he picked another tree and repeated the process. He was colder than before, having torn the bottom half of his t-shirt into strips to tie more support around his injured ankle. It made walking a little easier, but he was missing that extra layer. He looked around carefully, finally spotting a good place to set out his first snare. He only had five snares this time and he planned on spreading them out further and placing several of them deeper into the brush. With two of them to feed now, he needed a better success rate at catching the small game, so he laid out a few crumbs from the Nutter Butter bar. One down, he plodded deeper into the woods.

-NCIS-

Jackson was one of the last ones off the plane, unsteady on his feet even with the support of his cane. Tony and Ziva watched him carefully from behind the security checkpoint. Steel blue eyes, so much like his son's, met Tony's as he rounded the corner. "Is there any word?"

"No, no word yet." Tony stared at Jackson's feet as he came closer. "I'm sorry."

"Hey." Jack thumped his cane on the floor to get his attention. "The only one I blame is that double-crossing ranger that took him out there. Now come here, both of you." He held his arms out and pulled them both in for a hug. Tony's shoulders shook for just a moment while Ziva softly keened under her breath.

The two agents allowed themselves only a moment of comfort before pulling back. "Let's get your luggage and get back to the Yard. Vance has a team of Marines ready to go as soon as the storm breaks. Ziva, you go with Jackson and I'll pull the car around to the baggage entrance."

Knowing he wanted a few minutes to pull himself back together, Ziva tucked one arm under Jackson's and waved at Tony. "We will meet you at the doors." Once they were alone, Jack pulled Ziva closer and kissed her forehead.

"Leroy's tough, don't give up on my boy yet."

-NCIS-

The last snare placed, Tim began backtracking, making sure to stay far enough away from the snares to not disturb the scene, but close enough to see them. Each one looked proper, but when he reached the first snare he found a surprise. That snare had already caught a rabbit, a large one from the looks of it. Smiling, Tim eased close and picked it up by the scruff of the neck, carefully releasing it from the snare so it could be reset. Once it was free, he took a good look at his catch. It was a female rabbit that had recently given birth. judging from the teats heavy with milk.

His shoulders dropped as he held her close, rubbing his face along the soft fur before releasing her. "Home to your babies, mama." He sat back in the snow, ignoring the cold as the implications of what he'd done sank in. Survival meant taking every opportunity given, but even as he reminded himself, he knew, deep down, that he couldn't have done it. As cold and hungry as he was, he couldn't have eaten that meat knowing that a litter of babies were now starving to death. He'd just have to work extra hard to find another source of food. After he'd reset the snare, he followed his trail back, circling around the cave and heading the other direction so he could attempt to roll the large, downed pine tree. It wasn't meat, but it would do.

-NCIS-

Gibbs looked around the cave as the light increased slightly. Sometime before he'd wakened, McGee had poured the melted snow out of the two bottles and into the third before refilling them with snow. It had been long enough that the second round was now thawed and Gibbs added it to the third bottle. Carefully he stood up, and when the stone walls stopped moving, he slowly walked to the entrance of the cave. It took him a minute to figure out the door McGee had constructed, but once he had the barricade moved he was able to stumble out.

It was difficult to move in the deep snow, but he found a patch that looked fairly clean and packed both bottles tight with the snow before returning inside. Only a few minutes had passed, but the cave was noticeably colder by the time he got it sealed up again. Now he understood why McGee was so obsessive about keeping it so carefully closed. Stomping the snow off his pants and shoes made him lose his balance and he almost tipped into the fire. Gibbs kept from falling before dropping back down onto the bed, but some of the snow fell into the fire. It hissed and sizzled before Gibbs had enough wood added to it to bring it back. Once he had the fire built back up enough to rewarm the cave, he was exhausted and hungry. He laid back down and watched the two bottles sitting next to the fire. Something was niggling at the back of his mind about the bottles, but he couldn't seem to catch the stray thought.

-NCIS-

By the time he reached the downed tree, McGee was nearing the end of his endurance. Breathing heavily, he pulled the folding shovel out of his backpack and set to work. It took almost an hour to dig most of the snow out from under the downhill side of the tree. Leaning over the tree from the upper side was difficult and exhausting, but he couldn't risk getting pinned if the tree shifted before he was ready. Once that was done, he moved to the center and sat down. Bracing himself, he lifted his uninjured leg and pressed the foot against the tree. He pushed hard, but it didn't budge. After the third attempt, Tim shifted to use both legs. Knowing he'd probably only have one shot at it, he bit down on the strap of his backpack to muffle his scream and shoved with all of his strength. The tree wobbled and then finally rolled. For one horrifying minute he thought it was going to gain enough momentum to roll completely and land with the stripped side once again up, but after only a half revolution it stopped. His leg too painful to even think about standing up, Tim crawled down to the tree and started working. It was almost dark by the time he had the backpack filled with the edible bark and he slowly dragged himself to his feet.

He'd made the trek between the cave and the fallen tree enough times that it was automatic, but it still seemed much longer as he stumbled along. Finally, with the cave entrance in sight, he was able to relax, dropping to his knees as soon as he got the door closed behind him.

"McGee?" Still lightheaded from his own excursion, Gibbs raised up on one arm. "What happened?"

"I'm okay, just... just a little winded." Tim painfully pulled himself back up onto his feet and came closer to the fire. The first thing he noticed were the two bottles sitting too close to the edge of the firepit. He fell again and crawled the last few feet to grab the bottles.

Gibbs sensed his panic. "What is it?" Tim ignored him for a moment while he studied the bottles. The bottoms were warped from the heat, but they hadn't cracked open because they were both filled with solid ice. Gibbs tried again. "You said the water was important."

Tim knew exactly what had happened. "You packed as much snow as you could in these, didn't you? Instead of thawing, they turned into massive ice cubes."

"I should have known that." Gibbs shook his head in confusion. "That was a stupid mistake."

"Yeah, well, I'm glad you made it." Tim didn't have the energy to be mad as he set the bottles down at the proper distance. "The fire was too hot and the bottles were too close to it. The ice is the only thing that kept them from melting."

Gibbs felt even worse confessing the rest, knowing that he'd been more of a hindrance than a help for the young man he tried to rescue. "I didn't get the door closed properly when I went outside and I've been trying to get it warmed back up in here."

The extra fuel added to the fire presented another problem. "We'll need more firewood soon." Tim tried to stand, but couldn't.

"I know." Gibbs watched as the two McGees turned into one and then to three. Making a guess at which one was the real one, he caught his arm and tugged until he had him laying down on the firebed. It wasn't nearly as warm as it had been that morning, but it was still quite a bit warmer than the rest of the cave. "Rest a while, we've got enough to make it until morning." He could tell that McGee was fading fast even as he kept talking.

"Didn't bring back any meat. Should'a..."

"Easy, easy, snares aren't a sure thing, you did your best. Maybe tomorrow."

"I had her, I had her in my hands, but she had babies out there, and... and I couldn't. Stupid..."

"No, not stupid. Rest for a couple of hours and then we'll have the hot chocolate with brandy and some more of that tasty bark."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You rest and when you wake up, I'll tell you about the orphan deer I hid in the barn when I was a kid."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah." Gibbs tucked the Mylar blanket around them as he rested his chin on the top of Tim's head. "We're going to be okay. They're going to find us soon."

"Tony won't stop until he finds you, Boss."

Something about the way he said that set off alarms in Gibbs' head. "Both of us, Tim. We're going to get out of this together."

"You promise? I won't get left behind again?"

The question almost took his breath away. "I promise, Tim, I promise."


	11. Chapter 11

"Boss? Boss?"

The tone woke him more than the words and Gibbs quickly opened his eyes, slamming them shut as the face bent over him swirled around and divided into multiples. "McGee?"

It had taken a long time to get a response from the other man. "Your head injury is worse, isn't it?"

Gibbs licked his dry lips. "Maybe, what about your leg?"

Deflection could be a two way street. "My leg won't kill me, but that head trauma might."

"I've had concussions before, McGee."

"Uh huh." He lifted Gibbs' eyelids one at a time and checked his eyes with the flashlight. The pupils were still uneven and the left one was slower to respond to the light than it had been that first night. "This is a little more than a concussion, Boss."

"If a couple of bombs couldn't kill me, some idiot with a stick isn't going to take me out. Now, how about some of that hot chocolate we've been saving?" To prove his point, Gibbs shifted and raised up on one elbow, squinting as once again he had three McGees in front of him.

Even as he argued, Tim started warming some of the water they'd collected. "It's midnight, I can't believe I went to sleep like that."

"You needed it. Don't be so hard on yourself. Most of the Marines I served with couldn't have handled this, DiNozzo sure as heck couldn't have. I'm pretty sure I couldn't have lasted as well as you have. Now relax and enjoy the hot chocolate and..." He waited until McGee looked up and met him, or at least one of them, in the eye. "Merry Christmas, Tim."

"Thanks, Boss. As glad as I am to not be alone right now, I just wish you hadn't gotten hurt and trapped up here with me."

"Yeah, well, I wish I had just slapped DiNozzo upside the head and told that pilot to wait for you."

"Yeah, me too."

-NCIS-

"Jack? It's pretty late, would you like me to have someone drive you to Jethro's house?" Vance stood in back of him, watching his reflection in the glass.

The older man shook his head. He'd been watching the sun set and the lights come on throughout the Yard. Now it was mostly deserted "No, I think I'll stay here in case there's any word."

Vance wasn't surprised, after all Jack had fathered the most stubborn man he had under his command, but he wasn't going to let Gibbs' elderly father stand all night either. "Why don't you join me in my office then. You can stretch out on the sofa and you'll be right there if a call comes in. Besides, my coffee is better than that sludge in the break room."

A smile flickered over Jackson's face and he turned to follow Vance. Once up on the catwalk, he stopped and looked down at the remaining team members, both hard at work. "This is killing them, isn't it?"

Vance already had an agency psychologist on stand-by. "Yeah, it is."

Neither man spoke again until they'd reached the office. Vance's assistant was napping at her desk, so they quietly walked through and closed the door behind them. Jack took the offered cup, looking at the pictures on Vance's desk. "It's Christmas eve, isn't your family expecting you home?"

"Jackie and the kids understand." Vance lovingly ran his hand across the top of the frames as he circled around to sit while Jackson took his cup to the leather couch. "They've all spent time with your son and his team. Jackie calls every few hours to see if there's any word."

"Good... that's good. Family's an important thing." Jack set his cup down and rubbed his forehead. Vance could see that his hand was shaking and moved to sit next to him. "A man shouldn't outlive his children, it ain't right. All the time he was in the Corps, I kept waiting for that knock on the door. When it finally came, it was Shannon and Kelly that were gone. Leroy out there in the middle of a battlefield, and it's his wife and baby girl that get killed. Watching him watch those two coffins being put in the ground almost killed me, but I stayed strong for my boy. All those years afterward, when he wouldn't speak to any of us, I knew that as long as that knock on the door didn't come, that he was all right."

Vance laid his hand on Jackson's back, rubbing in small circles. "Your son is the most determined, stubborn..."

"Pig-headed?"

He couldn't help the slight chuckle. "I was going to say tenacious, but pig-headed works. If anyone can survive an assassin and an avalanche in order to save one of his men, it will be Jethro Gibbs. Until we have confirmation otherwise, we're not giving up. I give you my word."

"Thank you, Director Vance, that means a lot." Jack straightened and took a deep breath, obviously steadying himself. "Now what about Tim's family, they're not sitting alone in some hotel room waiting for news, are they? Leroy would want me taking care of those folks instead of sitting around feeling sorry for myself."

That was a tricky subject about details he knew McGee would not have wanted spread. "I'm afraid Tim doesn't have any family."

"Of course he does. When the team was in Stillwater for that case of theirs, I heard Tim call his mom to wish her a happy birthday." Jack gave Vance a hard look. "If they were dead, you'd have come right out and said so."

Vance shook his head. "Apple didn't fall far from the tree, did it?"

"So what happened?"

"There was a moment that his parents needed him, but the team needed him more."

"And his folks couldn't understand that?" The look on Vance's face gave him his answer. "It's their loss, Tim's a good man. Leroy wouldn't have him on his team otherwise. I guess we're his family now, and that's good. I've missed... I've missed being a grandpa."

-NCIS-

"You can sleep for more than a few hours you know." Gibbs woke to McGee dragging in more firewood. Judging from the pile, it wasn't his first trip.

"Yeah, well, if the clouds are any indication we're going to get hit with another storm later today." Tim started warming some of the shredded bark before turning his attention to the parts of the phone. He had his nose almost touching the plastic in the dim light and Gibbs fumbled around for the flashlight.

"I think that's important enough to justify using up some of the battery." He flicked the flashlight on and aimed it at what he hoped was the right set of hands working at putting the pieces together.

Tim looked at the light shining on the dirt. "Umm, other one, Boss." The light moved the wrong direction. "Umm, other, other one." Finally, with the light on his project, he resumed his task, his worry increasing.

He carefully assembled the rest of the dried phone before picking up the battery. He stripped a piece of wire from one of the computer wiring harnesses and folded it over to thicken and stiffen it. The battery itself was twisted and one side was bulging. "I'd better warn you, the battery is in pretty bad shape. This might not work."

"If anybody can do it, it'll be you, McGee." Gibbs cringed at how rarely he complemented the younger man when it wasn't a crisis situation. No wonder he'd been so quick to believe they would willingly abandon him.

"Let's hope so. Here goes nothing." Tim let the unbroken connector lock into place and slowly closed the battery against the phone, carefully watching the jury-rigged connector. As soon as contact was made there was a sizzling sound and he just managed to pull the battery free before it totally fried. Biting back a cry, Tim dropped the battery and cradled his hand against his chest.

"Tim!"

"I'm okay." He looked down at his hand. It was red, but the skin wasn't broken.

Gibbs wasn't convinced. "What happened?"

"The battery was damaged inside. It... it shorted and shocked me. I'm sorry."

"You did the best you could, so don't apologize, McGee. None of this is your fault." He waited a minute while Tim continued to study the phone. "So, without a battery, it's totally shot?"

"Maybe. I might be able to rig something with the CMOS battery from one of the computers. We won't be able to call out, but there might be enough juice to activate the GPS. I'll need to modify one of the connectors from a data cable to make it work and they're tied to trees to mark the path to the snares. I'd better check the snares while I'm out there. If this next storm is bad, it might be my only chance for a few days."

Gibbs hated to see him go out in the oncoming storm, but he knew there was no choice.

-NCIS-

Abby's scream brought Ducky running and caused Jimmy to fall off the chair he was dozing on. "A blip, I got a blip. It only lasted a second, but it was there."

She sounded so sure that Ducky didn't argue. "Were you able to determine a location?"

"The cave." She threw her arms around Ducky, knocking him back into Jimmy who was still climbing to his feet. "Gibbs made it to the cave. We need to call Leon and he can get the Marines up there."

Ducky knew that her excited babbling would not be understood by the Director, so he took the phone from her and explained the situation. He listened and then took her hands as he hung up the phone. "The Marines will have a helicopter up there in an hour."


	12. Chapter 12

**a/n - A couple of you were suspicious, I don't know why :) Let the screaming begin. Now, if I could just figure out why some chapters my dividers stay put and some they don't...**

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Even moving as quickly as possible it still took Tim over thirty minutes to reach the first snare. It was untouched, no footprints in the snow around it, so he moved on. The second snare was also untouched, but there were some small footprints close by so he repositioned the snare to put it in the new path. The third snare was torn up, whatever he'd caught was strong enough to fight its way out. The snare was beyond repair so he moved on.

The fourth snare held a familiar sight and Tim had to smile despite the stress and worry. "Mama bunny, you sure like your Nutter Butter crumbs. What am I going to do with you?" A growling stopped Tim cold and he looked up to see a mountain lion. In his heart he knew it was the one he'd encounter days earlier. It was aggressive and had no fear of humans. Before he could do more than register its presence, it went after its prey. Two strides across the snow and the powerful jaws snapped down on the frightened animal.

"No!" His yell was instinctive and automatic and the predator took it as a challenge. It charged, still holding its prize. Tim's reaction time would have made Gibbs proud, but the gloves, the biting cold and the electrical burn on his hand all combined to make it difficult to pull his gun. The cat was airborne when the bullets hit and they both went down hard and unmoving.

-NCIS-

"Listen up boys." The voice came over the headsets and the rescue team immediately came to attention. "There's a storm front moving in right behind us, means we're going to have to be quick. Chopper's not going to be able to land, so we're going to have to rappel down. There's a possibility we may have two victims, but the man Gibbs went after is inexperienced and has been missing up there for two weeks now. With the storms that have hit the area, I don't need to tell you his chances of survival."

"But we have proof of life for the Gunny, right Master Sergeant?"

"He managed to get a signal out, but it only lasted a few seconds. Smith, Hampton, you two are going down with me. We'll assess the situation, and then Carter and Jacobs will follow with whatever medical equipment we need. Any questions?"

Below them the winds increased, blowing the top layer of powdery snow in swirls, covering any footprints that might have been visible.

-NCIS-

Years of training and experience develop instincts that not even a head injury could totally erase, so when the muffled, distant sound of gunfire woke him, Gibbs was on his feet before it fully registered what he was hearing.

"McGee? Tim!"

The increased pressure and the stabbing pain in his head dropped him back down before he'd taken two steps. His eyes rolled back as a seizure hit and then he was still, the Mylar survival blanket still tangled around his legs.

-NCIS-

"Do we wait here or do we go to the hospital? What do we do? What do we do?" Abby's frenzied pacing and questioning were getting on everyone's nerves, but it was Ziva that snapped first.

"Abby, stop, you are driving me catty."

"It's batty, not catty, Ziva."

She glared at Tony. "I am not a bat, Abby is."

Jackson seemed amused, while Vance decided it was time to distract the excitable Goth. "Miss Sciuto, is there a way to track the rescue helicopter's progress?" With something to keep her mind focused, she immediately calmed down and the rest of the group relaxed slightly.

It was almost twenty minutes before Abby spoke again, putting a radar image up on the large screen in her lab. "The helicopter is hovering below the cave, why are they doing that? Okay, it's probably too steep to land up there, but why aren't they closer?"

Much to his son's dismay, Jackson always had an interest in mountain climbing and understood the mountains. "There's already been one avalanche up there, Abby. They don't want the rotor wash to dislodge anymore snow. They'll stay at a lower altitude than the cave and hike up."

It sounded reasonable and she nodded, biting her lip. "I can't hack into their communications. McGee... McGee could, but I can't. I'm sorry."

"That's all right, Miss Sciuto." Vance awkwardly patted her on the shoulder, not knowing if he was going to have her burst into tears or knock him over with a hug. He looked over at Ducky to see the agreement on his face. If the word was not good, they didn't want her to hear it in the clipped, professional tones of an overheard rescue. If they brought down bodies, or even worse, came back empty handed, telling the remaining team members would be a delicate task.

-NCIS-

Master Sergeant White had served with Gibbs many years ago and had never forgotten his dedication to the Corps and its principles. He understood why the man risked his life for a member of his team that had probably not survived his first night alone on the mountain. "All right, guys, let's go."

White was the first down the line, followed by Hampton and then Smith. Once Smith was on the ground, the chopper lifted up slightly and moved further down the mountain to better protect the snowpack closer to the target site. Blowing snow made visibility difficult, but they had the coordinates programed into a hand held GPS. Using the technology, they were able to quickly locate the cave. The branches laced together to cover the entrance increased White's confidence that they would find his old friend alive.

The door was tightly wedged into place, but a firm yank broke it loose. Once inside they found the unconscious man slumped near a weakly burning fire. "Gibbs? Jethro?" While White tried to rouse him, Smith did a quick assessment.

Before Smith could report his findings, a call came in from the chopper pilot. "Move it guys, the winds are really picking up out here."

The winds could be heard in the rapidly cooling cave. The Master Sergeant grabbed his mike, not waiting for Smith to tell him what was obvious. He'd seen the blown pupil as well. "Send down the stokes, we're doing a scoop and run. Tell Bethesda we have an incoming with severe head trauma."

Less than ten minutes later two more men entered the cave. It was crowded with five of them and their patient and none of them noticed the plastic bottles that were crushed under their feet as they loaded Gibbs into the metal frame. As they were trained, the last man out kicked enough dirt over the fire to douse the flames.

-NCIS-

McGee lay stunned in the snow, the weight of the dead mountain lion across his chest. He closed his eyes as he took inventory. He was light-headed and there was a thumping in his ears. His chest ached, but not much more than he would expect after being hit so hard. The pain in his leg had flared again and was throbbing in time with his heart. The new pain was in his arm. Not bad, but combined with the shredded sleeve he knew that the large cat had gotten a piece of him on its way down.

Assessment done, he next tried to figure out how to get out of this latest predicament. Instinctively, his mind went to what he knew about the cats. Mountain lions, or cougars, could weigh as much as two hundred pounds and be over eight feet long, head to tail. This one didn't look quite that long, so he hoped it wouldn't be that heavy, otherwise he wouldn't be able to lift it off of him without help. The thought of help nagged at him as his head cleared and the sound intruded more into his thoughts. It took him a few minutes to realize that the thumping was not in his head, but was the sound of helicopter blades.

"Hey, here, I'm here." He knew his voice was too weak to carry for more than a few feet, but the adrenalin boost helped him find the strength to roll the carcass off of him. It took three attempts to be completely out from under the dead weight and a good ten minutes to drag himself to the nearest tree to pull himself upright. One of his snowshoes had broken, but he found his walking stick. Leaning heavily on it, he headed back downhill towards the cave, and hopefully, rescue. He'd only traveled about thirty feet when he spotted the helicopter with the Marine Corps logo as it rotated and gained altitude. He was in an area of heavy trees which meant less snow to get through, but it also meant he wasn't visible from the sky. By the time he cleared the trees, the chopper was headed away from the mountain.

"No, no, no!" Tim didn't even think about pacing himself or conserving his energy as he rushed down the mountain, stumbling and falling repeatedly. When he reached the cave and saw the door, broken and tossed aside, he knew. He entered slowly, not even registering the fact that he instinctively lifted the door and laid it back into place. Sure enough, the cave was empty and Tim dropped down next to the dirt covered firepit. "What did I do wrong, Boss? What did I do to deserve this?" No answers were coming and after a moment Tim reached out and pulled close his abandoned backpack. As he remembered, several sheets of the waterproof paper were still in the small pocket, along with a pencil. He wrote two letters, neither of them long, and settled in to wait for the end.


	13. Chapter 13

a/n - Wow, what a response to the last chapter. Just for a FYI, I'm already working on the sequel, in fact I'm currently on chapter 3 of the sequel, But not Forgotten, which will be stroy two of a five story arc. Yeah, healing takes a while.

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The ringing of Vance's phone made the entire group jump, but they watched and listened carefully as he answered the call. His short agreement to meet somewhere and his thanks told them nothing, nor his his carefully neutral facial expression as he ended the call. He looked first to Jackson. "They found Gibbs, alive but injured. He's being airlifted to Bethesda."

Jackson sagged in relief, but the hugs from Tony and Abby kept him upright. "Thank the Lord. Can one of you take me to my boy?"

"Sure, we can." Over Jackson's shoulder Tony gave a questioning look to Vance. The Director just shook his head.

"Gibbs was alone in the cave."

Ziva wasn't satisfied. "Are they still looking for McGee?"

Vance glanced out the window. "Unfortunately, the storm arrived the same time they did, but if Gibbs had found him, they would have been together."

Tony, Abby and Jackson were already pulling on coats while Ziva hung back, forcing Vance to wait also. "Gibbs believed McGee could have survived up there."

"Unfortunately, it looks like Gibbs was wrong."

Ziva shook her head as she finally slipped into her coat. "Gibbs is never wrong, not about the team."

They divided into two groups for the drive to Bethesda with Ducky and Jimmy taking a third vehicle. By the time they arrived, Gibbs was already in surgery so Ducky went to find the emergency room doctor that had assessed his injuries. He returned less than twenty minutes later, a worried expression on his face.

"They are operating to relieve the pressure from a head injury. We'll know more later."

Jackson tried to read more on the other man's face. "Was he conscious at all? What about other injuries?"

"Other than a blow to the head, he appears to be in excellent condition. No sign of frostbite or exposure. The doctors tell me that he wasn't even dehydrated when he came in,"

An older man in a flight suit and parka came over to join them, holding out his hand as he introduced himself. "Director Vance, I'm Master Sergeant White."

Vance recognized the name as he shook his hand. "You led the rescue team."

"I did. The Gunny and I go way back, I was glad to help. I don't think he'd been unconscious for very long when we found him. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say he heard the chopper and tried to leave the cave to meet us. His legs were tangled up in a survival blanket when we found him, and he had a fire going to keep warm. I'd say he was darn lucky to know where that cave was. In his condition, he wouldn't have lasted more than a few hours out there. I'm just sorry we couldn't stay longer to find the body of your other man. I know it will hit Gibbs hard to not bring him home."

"You're sure you found no indication that McGee was still alive?"

"With the weather conditions the way they were up there, I'm just surprised we found Gibbs alive, Director. Of course, the Gunny always was a stubborn SOB."

"I understand, Master Sergeant, and I'd like to thank you for your help, especially on Christmas."

"The Corps is my family, so I was glad to help, Sir. I'll stick around if you don't mind. Like I said, Gibbs and I are old friends. The man never did handle losing a soldier, and I don't imagine that's changed much."

Vance shook his hand again. "You're right, he hasn't changed very much, appreciate the help."

-NCIS-

When Ducky and Jackson stood, the rest of them turned to watch as a man in scrubs walked up to them. He didn't waste any time. "The procedure went well. The bleeding had stopped on its own and we were able to alleviate the pressure by draining the excess fluid and blood. He's stable and beginning to respond to stimuli. I expect him to wake up soon."

The relief in the waiting room was instantaneous as Tony let out a yell just as Abby threw herself into his arms. The others were much more restrained in their relief and Vance watched as Ziva hugged Jackson briefly before retreating to the far end of the waiting room. He gave her a moment before joining her at the large picture window.

The mountain that had caused so much pain wasn't visible, but Vance knew that was what she was seeing as she stared out the window. He stood at her shoulder for a moment, trying to find the words to say, but it was Ziva that first broke the silence. "I am more grateful than words can say that Gibbs has been rescued, but..."

When her voice gave out, Vance finished for her. "But it wasn't enough." He lightly placed his hand on her shoulder, feeling her flinch at the contact. "Gibbs will be the first to agree with you. McGee was a good man and a good friend, it's okay to cry."

"I was trained by the Mossad, we do not cry." She hastily scrubbed at her face, wiping away any evidence to the contrary. Vance kept his voice low, both to keep her calm and to not attract attention to her pain.

"But you are now so much more than what the Mossad made you, and the man we lost up on that mountain had a great deal to do with it, didn't he?" He expected her to bolt, instead she turned to look him in the eye.

"I never told him."

"I know."

-NCIS-

"You okay, Tony?" Once Abby had let go of Tony, he'd eased towards the door, slipping out the moment the attention was off of him, but Palmer had followed him outside. Jimmy sat on the bench next to DiNozzo and waited.

"If the Boss had died up there too, I think I'd have eaten my gun."

Already Jimmy knew he was in over his head and wished he'd caught Dr. Mallard's attention before trailing Tony outside. "But he didn't die. You heard the surgeon, Agent Gibbs is going to be all right."

"All right? We're never going to be all right. We left Tim up there. We left him alone up there and he died up there, alone. Gibbs, Gibbs was willing to put it all on the line to save him and he got rescued without McGee. Do you think the Boss is just going to shake that off and walk away from it? It's going to kill him, just slower. Go back inside, Jimmy. I really just want to be alone right now."

"Umm, I'm not sure if that's a good idea, Tony."

Tony gave a bitter laugh. "Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything stupid. Gibbs will be hurting enough without me piling more guilt on him right now." He turned his back in an obvious dismissal.

Jimmy hesitated for a moment before scurrying back inside. He needed to find Ducky, and fast.

-NCIS-

"Here you go, Mr. Gibbs, you can sit with your son. We'll be monitoring him from the nurse's station and someone will be in the physically check him every fifteen minutes or so." Jackson nodded that he understood, but his attention was already on the figure in the bed. Other than the heavy bandage at the base of his skull, he looked to be just sleeping – as long as he ignored all the equipment surrounding the bed.

Jackson settled in to wait, planning on passing the time by bringing his son up to date with all the happenings in Stillwater. He'd just started telling about the Baker's young son and his runaway pet rabbit when Gibbs started thrashing around on the bed. Even as staff started streaming into the room, Jackson kept a firm hand on his son's head, talking into his ear. "You're going to be all right, Leroy, you're going to be just fine. Just lay still son, and open your eyes. That's it, just open your eyes for me, son."

The nurses stayed close to the monitors in the room, but gave them some privacy. As the encouraging continued, Gibbs' eyes fluttered and finally opened. "Dad?"

"I'm here, Leroy, and you're going to be fine." His hands trembling, Jackson allowed one of the nurses to guide him to a chair in the corner of the room as the doctors arrived to examine Gibbs. Ducky was with the surgeon, so Jackson willingly sat down as he gave a prayer of thanks.

Gibbs only tolerated the briefest of exams before he started asking questions, questions that alarmed both Ducky and Jackson. Jackson immediately pulled himself back to his feet and went back to the side of the bed.

"How is Tim, what happened to him?"

"Now, now, Jethro. You just concentrate on your own recovery right now."

"Damn it, Duck, just tell me. How bad is it?" When his old friend didn't answer, Gibbs turned to his father.. Jackson never believed in lying, but he tried to soften the blow as much as possible.

"I'm sorry, Leroy. I know you did everything you could."

"No, I didn't do anything." Gibbs frowned as he tried to put the pieces of memory back into some form of order. "Tim saved me from King, then he took care of me. I don't understand, I know he was hurt, but..."

Jackson and Ducky exchanged a troubled look before Jack took his son's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You must be mistaken, Leroy. You were alone when they found you."

"Alone..." Gibbs closed his eyes as the forced the memories to come back. "He fixed the phone, but the battery blew, burned his hand. He... he went out to get some of the wires from one of the computers and to check the snares. Another storm was coming and we needed the extra food." His eyes flew open and he tried to sit up. Multiple hands held him down. "Shots, I heard gunfire. He was in trouble and I tried... I tried..."

Gibbs opened his eyes and watched the reactions of the two men, knowing instinctively. "We left him behind again, I left him again." He turned to his father, struggling against the exhaustion that was tugging him back down. "I promised him we'd be rescued together. I promised him, Dad. What do I do?"

Jackson saw an expression on his son's face he hadn't seen since the day Leroy's mother was killed by a drunk driver. The young, tear-stained face that had begged him to fix it had haunted his dreams even more than the death of his wife. Back then, he could do nothing, he wasn't willing to let it happen again. "I'll take care of it, son. You just rest, if there's a way to fix this, I'll find it."

Trusting his father, Gibbs was almost instantly asleep and Jackson headed out of the room while Ducky sat, stunned at the thought of McGee still alive up on the mountain.

Jackson didn't slow down, just slammed the door open as he stormed out to the waiting room. "Master Sergeant White, where are you?"

Everyone in the private waiting room jumped, and the man leaning against the wall stepped forward. "Mr. Gibbs, what's wrong?"

Everyone who had assumed the Gibbs yell was something he'd learned in the Corps was discovering that it was actually a family trait. "What is wrong, Master Sergeant, is that my son is asking about his man. The man that saved his life and kept him alive up there."

White stared in horror. "What? Are you saying..."

"Did you even look, or did you just assume that a civilian couldn't have hacked it out there? That boy's tough, my son wouldn't have had on his team otherwise."

"But Gibbs was alone."

Jackson was in the man's face, his knuckles white where they grasped his cane. "He was alone because McGee went out to hunt for enough food to get them through the storm. Now, what are you going to do about it?"

White was already on his phone barking orders. He knew any effort to explain or apologize would mean nothing without a corresponding action.

-NCIS-

The rest of his team was huddled around the helicopter when White arrived. "Is it really true, we left a man up there?"

Hampton looked impossibly young and White tried to give him an encouraging smile even if there was nothing humorous about the situation. "Yeah, well, let's see if we can do it right this time." The storm had shut down all air traffic in the area, so they didn't bother to ask permission before taking off. Their pilot just turned the volume down on the radio to better ignore the order to return.


	14. Chapter 14

a/n - Thank you for your wonderful reviews, it seems most of you had a love/hate relationship with the last two chapters (can't imagine why). I originally wrote this as sixteen chapters, but the last chapter is double the length of the rest, so I may split it. You guys are right about healing and trust being a long time coming, hence the sequels.

BTW, in regards to one review - if it took until chapter 13 to figure out that this was an angsty story, even with angst and H/C listed as the genre, I don't know what else to tell you. As far as telling everyone when the story is fully posted, that's what that little "complete" tab is for.

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Jimmy arrived back in the hospital just in time to hear Jackson tear into White. Knowing that Tony needed to know what had happened, he turned right around and dashed down the stairs, not waiting for an elevator. Tony was no longer sitting on the bench where Jimmy had left him and he started searching a small park across from the hospital entrance. Just when he was about to give up and call in help, he found Tony leaning against the walkway railing overlooking the dormant garden.

Breathing heavily, he rushed up to Tony's side. "Oh, man, I'm glad I found you."

Tony didn't look at him. "I said I wanted to be alone for a while, Palmer."

"Yeah, I know, but Agent Gibbs regained consciousness a few minutes ago and..."

"Oh, thank you." Tony leaned heavily on the railing, his head bowed. It took Jimmy a second to realize that the thanks was not directed at him.

"He's really upset, Tony."

"I think we all are, in case you hadn't..."

Determined, Palmer raised his voice to drown him out. "He's upset because he found McGee, well actually, McGee found him, and they were together until McGee had to leave the cave to go hunting for food and that's when the rescuers showed up and..."

Tony finally looked up at Jimmy. You mean he... they... " He shook his head. "Ah, Probie, how does this keep happening?"

"The Marines are on their way back up there." Jimmy tried to sound encouraging but he was talking to an empty park as Tony was already on his way back to the hospital.

-NCIS-

If Martin Taylor was surprised by the undercurrents of hostility when he walked into the waiting room, he covered it well. Vance stared at him for a moment before leading him back out into the hallway. Taylor gave him a hard look. "I've got a man missing up there too, I expected to be kept apprised of the situation."

"Apprised? You wanted me to keep you apprised?" Two weeks of being the strong one, the voice of reason as his top team fell apart had taken their toll as frayed nerves finally snapped. "When your man became a suspect, you lost your rights to being kept in the loop."

"A suspect? What are you trying to say, Vance? Peter King is a..."

Vance cut him off before he could continue. "Peter King was Hopper's contact. He's the one responsible for this entire nightmare..."

"What? No."

"And until it's proven otherwise, all of King's associates are also suspects and will be investigated, starting with the rest of your rangers."

"He volunteered to search, he went out alone because it was so dangerous."

"Because it was dangerous or because he didn't want any witnesses?"

The truth of what Vance was telling him started to sink in and Taylor leaned against the wall. "Do you think he's dead up there?"

Vance didn't have to think twice about it. "If he's not, then my people will hunt him to the ends of the earth."

-NCIS-

Abby sat still in a chair, a feat most people would think impossible, but her mind was busy enough to make up for it. McGee was lost, she'd turned her back, he was dead, he wasn't dead, Gibbs found where he was, Gibbs was lost, Gibbs was found, McGee was dead again, alive once again and now they'd lost him again. She was hanging onto the arms of the chair so tightly, they creaked, but she didn't pay any attention.

Instead, she watched. Palmer had disappeared and reappeared several times, his last arrival had been at a dead run behind Tony who was now rapidly pacing in front of the windows. Vance had returned, this time without the ranger. Jackson had returned to his son's bedside the moment the Marine had left the waiting room and Ziva, Abby's eyes narrowed as she watched the other woman who appeared to be sitting as still as she was. As Abby watched, however, she saw the tiny tremors that the other woman was trying to hide. It would have been successful if it weren't for the strands of hair that moved, trembling along with her.

Before Abby could think what to say, Ziva stood and rushed out of the room. Abby hesitated and then followed her, arriving in the hall just in time to see the door to the stairs latch closed. Still not knowing what to say, Abby opened the door, hoping for a clue which direction to go. It wasn't necessary, Ziva was sitting on the stairs, her hands pressed against her mouth as she rocked slightly. "Ziva?" Unsure, Abby eased down the stairs far enough to stand on the same step. "It's going to be okay. I have to keep thinking about Gibbs being all right because otherwise I think about Timmy and how he must feel up there all alone and..."

A muffled whimper changed the direction of Abby's words. "He's going to be all right, Ziva, and he'll forgive us. McGee always forgives us."

At that Ziva finally turned and looked up at Abby, an unbelieving look on her face. Faltering, Abby still tried to convince Ziva and now herself. "He has to forgive us because if he doesn't, then we won't be a team any more. We won't..." Abby slid down the wall to sit next to Ziva. "He has to forgive us."

-NCIS-

A short break in the storm gave the team of Marines a chance to actually look at the terrain as they approached their disembarkation site. "Master Sergeant, look at that." Carter was staring out the window at a barkless tree half buried in the snow.

Smith's eyes opened wide. "That's an Eastern White Pine, man, I wish we'd seen that the first time. Somebody's been harvesting that for food."

They prepared to rappel down, feeling even guiltier. By an unspoken agreement they all made the decent, balancing the stokes between them as they headed up the mountain. None of them spoke until they came into visual range of the cave and saw the door had been partially restored. "It's true, he was up here alive all along." Nobody answered Jacobs, but they increased their speed as the snow started falling again.

White approached the huddled figure while the rest of the rescue team held back, as to not startle him. "Agent McGee?"

McGee flinched and slowly looked up. "You're too late, somebody already came for Gibbs." His head dropped back down and he pulled the remnants of the torn survival blanket tighter around him.

"I know, son, and I'm sorry." Not knowing what else to do, White rested his hand on Tim's head for just a moment before he waved the rest of the team closer. Smith did a quick assessment before they moved him into the stokes. Tim refused to let go of the items he was clutching, and they just lifted him as he was, Jacobs taking charge of the backpack that was at McGee's feet.

-NCIS-

"Mother, you really didn't have to come." Jackie sighed as her mother climbed out of the passenger side of the SUV . The kids were already out of the backseat and unloading the boxes of food stacked in the back.

Eunice Bryant had spent twenty years raising up her daughter to marry well, to be the society wife she knew Jacqueline could be. Unfortunately too much of her husband's ideals had seeped through to destroy her well laid out lessons. Jacqueline had insisted on shortening her name to Jackie, gone to a public college for social work and had married a man whose overriding career goal was to save the world. The only redeeming factor about the man that had stolen her baby was the fact that he'd worked his way up to become the director of his agency. It was an agency most people had never heard of, but it was a start. Of course the fact that Leon was spending Christmas day at a military hospital instead of at home with his family wiped out any progress he'd made in Eunice's eyes, and she'd make sure he knew that.

"Don't be silly, my dear. How else am I going to get to spend any time with my family. If Leon refuses to come home, then we must go to him."

While Jackie was her father's daughter, Lily was very much her mother's daughter. "Grams, Daddy offered, we told him to stay here. This is important."

"Of course it is, Deliah." The brittle smile didn't fool anyone and Eunice trailed after them, not offering to carry a thing.

-NCIS-

"Is there any word?"

Jackson gave his son an encouraging smile and patted his arm. Every time Gibbs woke, it was the same question. "No, not yet, but it hasn't been that long. Try to get some real sleep and I promise I'll wake you up the second we hear anything."

"Sleep? How can I sleep? Can you imagine how he's feeling right now?"

There was no real answer, so Jackson tried to distract him. "Agent Fornell has been calling every hour to check on you. He'd be here, but he's got his daughter for Christmas, said he'd be here as soon as her mother picked her up."

"Good, that's good, he doesn't get to spend enough time with her. Family... family's important."

Jackson knew what he was thinking about, but before he could say anything, Ducky burst into the room. "Jethro, we've just heard from the rescue chopper. They are inbound with a survivor on board."

"Thank God." Gibbs had started to sit up when Ducky came through the door and he sagged back down in relief. "Do we know..."

"That is all we know so far, but I have a copy of Timothy's medical proxy, so the doctors will have to keep me informed once he's here. For now let's just focus on the fact that he is alive and safe."

Deep down in his gut, Gibbs knew that alive and safe hardly scratched the surface of what McGee would need before this nightmare was totally behind them.

-NCIS-

If nothing else had convinced her how depressed the mood was in the waiting room, the fact that her best meal was barely touched certainly would have done the trick. Jackie wrapped her arms around Leon's waist as she rested her cheek on his shoulder. "I see what you mean. They seem so fragile right now, even Agent David. I'd hoped that Agent Gibbs' improvement would have helped the rest of the team."

He kissed the top of her head. "Believe it or not, it has."

Jackie looked around, watching Tony methodically shred a napkin into strips before rolling each strip into a little ball as Palmer hovered behind him, while in separate corners, Ziva and Abby listlessly picked at the food on their plates. Sadly she understood. Leon hadn't missed Christmas morning with his children as a show of support for his top team, he was on an unofficial suicide watch, protecting what was left of their careers as well as their lives. She squeezed her arms tighter around him and tipped her head back to meet his second kiss. "You are a good man, Leon Vance, and I love you."

Before the second kiss could lead into anything more, a nurse arrived in the waiting room, slightly out of breath. "We just received word, they pulled your other agent off the mountain. We're setting up in emergency for him right now."

The mood in the room changed immediately and after a few moments of celebration Jackie took over, using it to her advantage. "That means it's going to be a long night, so eat up while it's still hot. Going hungry won't help him a bit." Satisfied, she watched as the suddenly ravenous team tore into her carefully prepared food. That was more like it.


	15. Chapter 15

By the time the helicopter landed at Bethesda, Gibbs had been moved to a private room, allowing unlimited access by the rest of the team. They waited for word from Ducky who was parked in the emergency ward, but it was Master Sergeant White that arrived in the room first, setting a paper bag on the floor.

"Michael." Gibbs was propped up in the bed and reached out a hand. White took it, pressing his other hand on top of their joined hands as they shook.

"Good to see you looking better, Gunny."

With only a slight nod in acknowledgment, Gibbs went straight to the point. "How was he when you found him?"

"It was the damnedest thing." White dropped down into the chair that Jimmy brought in for him. "He looked up at us and just said that someone had already come for you, then he curled back up in the blanket, like he thought we were just going to turn around and... and leave." White shook his head. "I guess in his mind that's exactly what we did. He was just sitting in the dirt, hadn't even rebuilt the fire, just sitting there holding, well, these." White reached into the bag.

Gibbs inhaled sharply as he held his hands out and took the battered, crushed water bottle and the small piece of Nutter Butter. Tony immediately recognized the peace offering he'd sent up the mountain. "He had to be starving, why didn't he eat all of it?"

"That first morning, he insisted that we split it equally."

Ziva had a soft smile on her face. "That does sound like McGee, always the gentleman."

"He didn't know that I noticed, but instead of eating his half, he took it with him when he went to set out his snares."

"Bait to attract small animals to the snares, that was pretty smart." Vance knew there was much more to the story and nudged Gibbs. "The bottles?"

Before he answered, Gibbs carefully straightened the mangled plastic. "We left him up there with only three water bottles. He took two of them and cut the tops off so he could fill them with snow. When that would melt, he would pour it into the third bottle. He'd have to do it three times to get one full bottle of water.

"He had to leave the bottles out in the snow to save my life and then risked his own life going back out in the dark for them after I was out of danger. Came face to face with a mountain lion while he was at it." Deep down, Gibbs knew that he could never explain how that plastic became Tim's lifeline and what it must have done to him to come back and find them crushed under the careless feet that had not bothered to wait for him.

White was feeling uncomfortable and guilty and wanted to get back to his team, who were also feeling the same way. "We brought back his backpack, it's with his effects downstairs, but I wasn't sure what to do with these." Some folded paper was pulled out of his pocket. "I didn't read them, but it looks they're letters."

Gibbs reached for them, but Vance took them first. "Thank you, Master Sergeant, I'll make sure these get to the right people." Gibbs started to argue, but he saw Vance quickly glance over at DiNozzo and he understood.

Quietly leaving, White passed Ducky in the hall, not knowing who he was. When he saw the other man open the door to Gibbs' room, White turned back around and returned to the room.

"Ducky, how is he?" Tony was the first one to see the Medical Examiner arrive. Ducky shook his head and took the chair White had been using.

"I'm afraid I don't know, Tony." Ducky removed his glasses and wiped them, taking the time to gather his thoughts. "I do know that Timothy is conscious and aware enough that he has verbally revoked both my and Jethro's medical proxy."

"What?"

"No."

Gibbs didn't seem surprised. "Were you able to find out anything?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. I was able to stay in the hallway and observe what medical supplies and equipment were brought into his room and what specialists are consulting. An orthopedist has been brought in, and a burn specialist."

"A burn specialist?" Gibbs tried to remember if he'd seen the burn on McGee's hand.

"It would appear they are suspecting possible frostbite. It damages the body in a way similar to a severe burn. They've brought in a whirlpool, the hot water will thaw the affected tissue."

"It's his leg." White came closer, leaning against the foot of the bed. "He had it splinted and wrapped, and we didn't disturb any of that, but it didn't look good."

"You don't know how bad?"

"Sorry, Gibbs, it takes months sometimes for the damage to fully develop. The good news is that if the original injury caused enough bruising, it might have acted like insulation and prevented the frostbite from penetrating too deeply into the tissue. On the other hand, the limited movement he had in the leg made it more susceptible to freezing. There's one thing I can tell you, he's going to be in agony for a long time."

Gibbs turned to Ducky for confirmation. "He was limping, but he was walking, Duck, and he didn't seem to be in that much pain."

Ducky wished he had better news and he also wished he didn't have to answer in front of the rest of the team. "Once the tissue freezes, most of the feeling is lost, Jethro. I'm sorry to say, but I'm afraid he's correct, this is going to be a painful and long recovery."

The psychological ramifications didn't need to be mentioned, they all were painfully aware of their own contributions to what had happened, but Vance could see that Gibbs was reaching the end of his endurance. "This is something that isn't going to be fixed in a few days or even a few weeks. It's time we all went home and let Gibbs get some rest. Palmer, you drive DiNozzo and Miss Sciuto." He caught Jimmy's eye and the young man nodded in understanding. Vance's gaze next turned to the other young woman in the room. "Ziva, I can drop you off at home."

She'd been staring out the window, not looking at any of them as they listened to Ducky and White, which worried Vance. She turned back, but didn't look him in the eye. "Thank you, Director, but I would like to be alone for a while. My car is downstairs."

He wasn't convinced, but knew better to push it, instead concentrating on herding the depressed group out of the room. Vance caught Palmer's arm while Tony was helping Abby with her coat. "Keep an eye on them. Call either myself or Dr. Mallard if you get worried."

Ducky overheard the comment and slipped in behind Abby. "Why don't the three of you join me for a late supper and one of those movies you like so much, Tony? I'm finding I don't relish the idea of spending the evening alone. Perhaps if we put our heads together we can find a way out of this mess."

Eventually it was just Vance and Jackson standing in the room. Vance was worried about how tired the older man looked. "Any chance I can talk you into leaving?

Jackson looked over at his son, fighting to stay awake. "Nah, these chairs are actually pretty comfortable. We'll be fine."

-NCIS-

The nurse bent down and brushed the hair off her patient's forehead. "Are you sure you don't want someone with you? You don't have to be alone right now."

Tim just closed his eyes. "I'm used to it."

-NCIS-

The lights were dim when Ziva arrived back in the squad room, but it suited her mood. It took three printers almost an hour to give her everything she needed. She eased into her chair and started sorting out the pages, her fingers trailing over the photos she barely recognized. Once it was organized to her satisfaction she slid the stack into a manila folder and printed out one last page.

-NCIS-

"How do I fix this?"

Jackson looked over at his son, shaking his head. "I wish I knew, Leroy. It's going to take patience, that's for sure, patience and a whole lot of time."

"My gut's telling me we don't have that much time." Gibbs wasn't looking at his dad, he was staring at the ceiling. "Not enough time and I don't have a clue how to fix this."

"Maybe this can't be fixed. Maybe you shouldn't even try." If he was hoping to get a reaction, he succeeded.

"What?" Gibbs turned and stared at him. "Give up? You think I should just give up on him, let this destroy him?"

Now that he had his son's attention, Jackson leaned forward. "I won't deny that you and Tony and Abby have a lot to feel guilty about, but if you let that guilt control your need to fix this, you'll drive him even further away. He needs you to want to fix this because you care about him, because he's important and worth it, not to assuage your own guilt. You know I'm right."

"Words aren't my strong suit, never have been."

"Don't think words would mean that much to your boy right now, I think it's time to let your actions speak for you. You'll find a way, I have faith in you, son."

-NCIS-

Eunice glared at the figure coming up the walkway. "Don't those people ever leave you alone?" Jackie didn't say a word, just grabbed her mother's arm and marched her out of the living room. The clearing of her throat sent the children to their rooms, so Vance was alone when the doorbell rang. Concerned, Leon opened the door. "Ziva, has something happened? Is Gibbs or McGee any worse?"

She came in, not taking off her coat. "McGee is alone because of our failures. He is alone because he helped to save me instead of sitting at his mother's bedside. It is not right."

"No, it's not." Vance kept his voice low. She seemed somehow more fragile than he could have ever imagined and he didn't know what she was thinking.

She thrust a piece of paper at him. "I need you to sign this." He took it and carefully read the standard form. He knew of its existence, but as long as he'd been director, they'd never used it.

"You want to release a non-redacted NCIS case file to McGee's parents? Which one?" She opened her backpack and handed him the large, bulging folder and followed him to the dining room table. He carefully slid out the contents and found himself staring at the detailed files from Somalia. He slowly went through the stack, observing her reaction to each page, each photograph. Everything was there, from the early research McGee and Abby had done to crack the files in the burned laptop Rivkin had left behind, to the graphic photos taken during Ziva's medical exam after her rescue.

He placed the pages very carefully back in the folder. "Are you sure?"

"They need to know. If they really understood what a brave and courageous..." She bit her lip to stop it from trembling. "I need to do this for him, sir." Ziva finally looked up at him for the first time since she arrived. "Please."

As he signed the authorization he looked over Ziva's shoulder to see Jackie watching from the kitchen. She softly smiled and nodded her answer. He smiled back at her before turning his attention back to Ziva as he handed her the form and the folder. "I'll drive you to the airport so you don't have to worry about parking."

The ride was silent, when Vance pulled the car to the curb he handed Ziva a sealed envelope. "This is the letter that Tim wrote to his parents." He knew that no matter how much she might want to, Ziva would not break open the seal.

-NCIS-

Ducky ignored Palmer's wide-eyed stare as the four of them entered Ducky's townhouse. Knowing that none of them had been to his new home, he guided them down the hall and into the less formal back parlor adjoining the kitchen. "Make yourselves at home. I do believe popcorn with the movie is in order."

Tony glanced over at the familiar movie sitting on top of the DVD player. "Ducky, I'm not sure if a movie is a good idea tonight, especially that one."

"Nonsense, it's a perfect night for a movie, especially this one." Ducky crossed the room and picked up the movie case before handing it to Tony. Automatically, Tony took the thin plastic box, his fingers tracing over the familiar face of James Stewart. Lost in thought, he almost missed Ducky's next words.

"We may not consider the situation we have found ourselves in to be a wonderful life, but Timothy, much like George Bailey, needs to see how important he is to each and every one of us, so I suggest you and Abigail take notes."

-NCIS-

"Is that man deliberately avoiding his family this Christmas?" At her mother's sharp tone, Jackie carefully folded the dishtowel and laid it back on the counter.

"I'm sorry the rescue of his two men was such an inconvenience for you, Mother but I did warn you that this was not a good time to visit."

Eunice was not picking up on the warning tone in her daughter's voice. "It's not as if..."

"Don't." Jackie had had enough. "Those people put their lives on the line every day, and part of what they risk themselves for is my family's safety. Agent Gibbs has been to our home, had dinner at my table. Agent McGee has traveled with Leon, protecting him. What happened to them was terrible, especially to Agent McGee and he will need a great deal of help to recover. If Leon and I can provide some of that help, then we will, gladly. In fact, I expect Leon to offer him the guest room when he's released from the hospital."

The challenge was apparent. Eunice considered their guest suite as her private domain, allowing her to come and go as she pleased. "So that's the way it's going to be?"

"That's the way it's going to be."


	16. Chapter 16

a/n - Okay, slamming what I've written is one thing, and anyone certainly has a right to do that, but come on - slamming me for what you THINK I'm going to write in later chapters? Unless you're claiming to have broken into my home and read my notes, I can promise you that you have no idea exactly how this arc will end, "Oh For Christ's Sake" aka - Ms I'm too Chicken to Sign my Review. A strong character picks himself back up one more time, no matter how many times he gets knocked down, even if it takes a moment.

Now that I have that off my chest, thank you to the rest of my readers. Your reviews absolutely make my day. One more chapter after this one, then on to the sequel. I've got the first six or seven chapters roughed out, and several of those ready to post so we should go right from one story to the next.

* * *

It would have been a quick flight if not for the layover in New York, but Ziva did not argue over her flight arrangements. Overhead, the streetlights flickered on as Ziva parked the rental car outside the simple cape cod style home. The precisely laid out gardens were softened by whimsical flower choices and brightly colored yard art.

She'd once heard a movie reference from Tony that McGee used to explain his family. Curious, she'd watched the movie on the flight out. Knowing now what he'd meant, she could see the influence of both parents in the yard and house. If she was right, then there was a good chance that she could get through to the stubborn man.

As soon as the door opened, Ziva found herself with an armful of a terrified Sarah McGee and instantly reassured her. "He is alive, Sarah, safe and alive." She felt more than heard the sobbed request. "Pack your things, I will take you to him after I speak with your father."

"I'm already packed."

"Good girl, I won't be long." A kiss on the younger woman's cheek and Ziva strode into the living room. "George McGee?"

He stood at parade rest in the middle of the formal room studying her as she returned the favor. The physical similarity was remarkable, she would have easily picked him out of a crowded room as McGee's father, but where her friend's eyes were warm and friendly, his were colder and shuttered. She looked around the room. It was spotlessly clean and tidy, but the furniture was obviously the same as when Tim had been a child. Photos covered the walls, images of various Naval flight lines and squadron portraits were mixed in with candid family shots. One picture of father and son at a little league game caught her eye.

"I did not know that McGee, Tim, played baseball."

"Teamwork is important. My cub was no sportsman, but I wanted him to learn that. I raised my family to be a team."

"And sometimes a team becomes a family."

The challenge was set as an older woman came in through the dining room. Judging from the towel she was drying her hands on, Ziva guessed she had been doing the dishes. The soft lilt to her voice instantly told Ziva that McGee's manners came from being raised by a Southern lady. "Bear, you didn't tell me we had a guest."

He looked slightly abashed, which surprised Ziva. "Now, Muffin, she just arrived, hasn't even introduced herself yet."

"As if I wouldn't recognize her from the photos Timmy has shown us." She came closer, dropping the towel on the top of the sofa. Ziva noticed the slight limp, an apparent residual effect from the stroke. "Hello, Ziva, welcome to our home."

Ziva took the offered hand. "Thank you, Mrs. McGee. You have a lovely house."

"Please, call me Brenda. It's nothing fancy, but we're comfortable. Did Tim send you out to talk some sense into my hard headed husband?" She glared at him, but there was a spark of humor in her eyes.

"Not exactly." Ziva was becoming even more confused, but let the other woman talk.

"Bear forgets how focused Timmy gets when he's working on a computer. I don't blame him for not coming home when I was ill."

"Computer programmers are a dime a dozen. Anyone could have done what he was doing." Pronouncement made, George sat in an oversized recliner and glared at Ziva.

"Is that what you thought? That McGee was sitting in some comfortable office, typing away on his keyboard?" Ziva scooted a table close and swept the newspapers off and onto the floor. "It is time you know exactly what your son does for the agency, for the team, for our family."

She slammed the folder onto the coffee table pulling out the one picture of McGee's battered face after the mission. "Does this look like he was sitting behind a desk?"

"What the..." He took the picture from her and studied it closely. Ziva didn't give him a chance to ask any questions.

"I was Mossad, and the only surviving child of their Director, assigned to NCIS as a liaison and part of Gibbs' team, but my father tricked me into returning for a mission. It was a terrorist training camp, and I was there, captured and alone. My father told NCIS that I had died. He had no plans to rescue me, my own father left me there to die, alone."

Now that she had the older man's attention, Ziva dropped to her knees on the other side of the table, spreading out the pictures on top of the printed reports. Tim's mother silently sat on the sofa, while Ziva stared at the pictures of her own bruised body, not looking at either of them as she continued. "I was held for months, but each day seemed endless. I longed for death, but they took great pleasure in making sure I didn't die, and took their own pleasures in many other ways."

George nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off the young woman kneeling in his living room. He may have spent his career up in the clouds as a Navy pilot, but he was well aware of the depravities on the ground.

"One day they... they took me from my cell. My head was covered with a bag, but there was something different, an excitement, like a feeding frenzy was about to start. They sat me in a chair and I felt someone's hand on the bag. I was already planning on how I could trick them into killing me, but when I could see... when I could see, Tony was tied to the chair in front of me and McGee, this gentle, kind man, was tied up and laying there in the dirt at my feet."

"The team came to rescue you? Where was Gibbs?"

She shook her head at his question. "Not to rescue me, they thought I was already dead. The team came to avenge me. They allowed themselves to be captured to get into the base, knowing that the leader would interrogate them personally. Gibbs was up on a hilltop with a sniper rifle, waiting for them to give the signal and a squad of Marines was standing by, but my two partners willingly walked into that camp to avenge my death and to honor me by completing my final mission."

"But Timmy's a civilian."

"A civilian that took an oath to protect this country and sometimes for us the line between civilian and military becomes blurred." Ziva looked up at him for a moment before closing her eyes. "We failed him and he was hurt. In just a moment we shattered the trust that we live by." This time she did keep her eyes open, blinking rapidly as she fought for control of her emotions.

"We will not stop until we have earned back his trust, but until then he is alone and in pain."

"Timmy is hurt?" Brenda had watched quietly until then. "My son is injured?" When her husband shifted in his chair, she put the pieces together. "George, you knew? You knew our son needed us and you didn't say anything?"

"Now, Muffin..." He scrambled to his feet when she stood.

"Don't you 'Muffin' me, George McGee. It is one thing to punish our son, but not when he's hurt, never when he's hurt."

"When you got sick, he never told me what it was about, just that he couldn't leave."

"And how many times were you on a mission and couldn't come home when we needed you?"

"But he's a civilian, works with computers, he isn't supposed to be anywhere dangerous."

Brenda crossed her arms as she glared at him. "Well, that apparently isn't quite true, is it?" She turned to Ziva. "When else has my son been in danger or injured that we didn't know about?"

There was a fine line between making her point and terrifying his mother. "Well, there was the assassin that tried to kill him and the dirty bomb that he helped defuse. He was interviewing a convicted murderer at a prison when there was a riot and..."

"Heavens." White as a ghost, Brenda dropped back down on the sofa, her hand over her heart. "That's enough to give a mother nightmares, no wonder he never tells us the details."

"He would never want to frighten you, but he is a field agent and we deal with criminals and terrorists every day. This time, when McGee thought he would not survive, he wrote a letter to the both of you." Ziva knew she'd made her point and the file would tell the rest. As she picked up her backpack and laid the letter on top of the file, she watching McGee's parents carefully. His mother called out to Sarah, who was watching from her perch on the stairs.

"Sarah, you're going back to DC tonight. Take some money from the cookie jar, I don't want you traveling without cash." Even though it had been many years, Ziva recognized the 'do as you're told' look the young woman was getting from her mother.

Sarah recognized it too as she scurried into the kitchen without arguing before Brenda turned to Ziva. "I don't want you to feel like I'm rushing you out the door, but I am going to drill some sense into my husband's thick skull and it would probably be best if there weren't any witnesses."

For the first time since it had all started, Ziva couldn't help but smile, and at the door she received a hug from the older woman before Brenda turned to her daughter. "You tell your brother that we will be along very soon."

Sarah kissed her mother on the cheek. "As soon as Daddy figures out how to get your foot out of his..."

"Sarah Grace McGee, you watch your tongue young lady. You do not want to be still spitting out bubbles when you see your brother."

Once the door closed behind the two women Brenda stormed back into the living room. "I want the truth, George. What did you tell Timmy when I was in the hospital?"

"Ah, hell, Brenda." He rubbed his mouth as he started to pace in front of the fireplace. "The doctors were using all these big words that I didn't understand and wanting me to make all these decisions. Barking out orders to a bunch of raw recruits is one thing, but this was your life they were talking about, Honey. I needed Timmy to come make sense of it all for me and when he said he couldn't come home, I just lost it. Told him he had to make a choice, that if he didn't come home right then, this would no longer be his home, we were no longer his parents."

"No longer his parents? Who gave you the right to make such a decision on my behalf?" It was times like this that made George wish his wife had inherited her father's Irish coloring instead of his temper.

"I suppose it's possible I may have over-reacted just a touch."

"A touch?" She slapped him hard on the chest. "Who was it that gave birth to that boy while you were flying over the Mediterranean? Who taught him how to ride a bicycle while you were in the Gulf?" Another slap to the chest. "Who rocked him when he had colic and sat up all night when he had croup?" By now she had forced him back to the table and she pointed at the pile of papers Ziva had left. "You're so busy trying to hold on to the boy you missed out on, that you've never understood the man he's become. You read those pages, Bear, every last one of them. I don't want to see you until you're done."

A final slap to the chest and she stormed off to climb the stairs. George followed, but not too close, and not saying anything until she had slowly limped up the stairs. The click of the bedroom door told him she had safely made it upstairs. He waited a few more seconds before calling out to her. "Does this mean I'm sleeping on the couch?" The bedroom door reopened and he looked up in time to catch a pillow as it flew down. A blanket floated down behind it as the bedroom door slammed shut. "I'll take that as a yes."


	17. Chapter 17

a/n - You guys rock :) Last chapter, along with a moment of weakness, but I think he's earned it. We've gathered enough pieces to restore my files for _Puppet Master_, so that's what I'm going to be working on this weekend. With any luck, I'll have the final chapter of that one posted the first of the week, so now would be a good time to re-read _Puppet Master_. If you're reading that one for the first time, notice what I didn't warn about and just keep reading. The first chapter of _But not Forgotten_, the sequel to _Left Behind_, will be posted Wednesday.

* * *

"Leroy, it's the middle of the night, what are you doing awake?" Jackson had been dozing, easily awakened by the rustling as Gibbs sat up in his hospital bed.

"He's alone, doesn't even have an advocate to watch out for him. How can I sleep?" Gibbs stood at the window, staring out at the darkness. "I need to be in there with him. I need to talk to him."

Jackson came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I know you do, Son, but what about what he needs right now? He's canceled your proxy and is refusing visitors, maybe you should let him have his peace for a few days."

"That's not the way his mind works, Dad. He's convinced himself he doesn't matter to us and every screw-up while we were trying to get him off that mountain just reinforced it. He doesn't expect any of us to visit, but by refusing visitors..."

"He can blame the restrictions when no one comes. That's some convoluted logic there, Leroy."

"That's the difference between my two boys. Tony tends to jump before he thinks, but Tim over thinks things."

It was starting to make sense to Jackson. "When Tony gets himself into trouble, you're able to step in, but Tim's problems are a little harder to spot. You don't react as quickly, he thinks it's because he doesn't matter as much."

Gibbs had to smile at how simple his father made it sound. "Usually they balance each other out. Tony won't know when to quit, eventually Tim will get mad and stand up for himself and then Tony makes it up to him."

"Quite a cycle."

"Yeah, and each time Tim gets a little better at not letting Tony get to him and Tony gets a little better about thinking first. If King hadn't sabotaged things..."

"Talk me through it, what would have happened if this man, King, hadn't gotten involved?" Having only raised one boy, Jackson wasn't too experienced with brothers, but he was catching on.

"The truck would have arrived about two hours after the chopper left. He'd have been mad and cold, but that's it. His ankle didn't seem all that bad when we left, so after he'd had the coffee and donuts Tony brought him the next morning, I'd have sent him down to Ducky to get it checked and I'd have read DiNozzo the riot act while he was gone. Ziva would have made Tony do all of McGee's running around and I would have made him do the lunch run even though it wasn't his turn. By the end of the day Tony would have suggested the two of them have a pizza and movie night. If he was still feeling guilty, he'd let Tim pick out the movie. If he was feeling really guilty still, he wouldn't even whine about what McGee picked."

"Good thing they're not predictable."

This time Gibbs didn't smile. "All that doubt and self-questioning, he's been alone way too long. I need to get in there, I need to get through to him."

"So you're just going to march up there with your butt hanging out of that hospital gown?"

Frustrated, Gibbs turned around, almost losing his balance. Jackson grabbed his arm before opening his overnight bag and tossing him a pair of sweatpants. "If we're going to sneak in there, wait until after they do your hourly check. That'll give us more time."

Gibbs caught the pants. "Us?"

"Well, the way I see it, you're going to need a distraction to get past his nurses."

"Thanks, Dad."

-NCIS-

Nerves were setting in and Ziva gladly paid for two highly overpriced mixed drinks when the stewardess came by. Sarah gratefully showed her ID and took one of the glasses, downing a third of it before setting it down on the tray.

Ziva was also well into her drink before she set it down next to Sarah's and turning to the younger woman. "Bubbles?"

"What?"

"Why would you spit bubbles at your brother?"

The alcohol hitting her bloodstream made her giggle even more. "I guess they don't wash your mouth out with soap in Mossad."

"No, they do not. Is that an effective punishment?"

"Let's just say it makes the point. Bad language is one thing Mama won't tolerate."

Ziva nodded and took another drink before sitting straight up. "You have a middle name."

"Of course I do."

"But your brother does not."

"Neither does our father or his father and tradition is very important to Daddy. Now, before we get there, I need you to tell me everything that happened to my brother."

Ziva was convinced there was more to the story, but Sarah was right. She needed to know exactly what her brother had gone through if she were to help him heal.

-NCIS-

As the nurse was checking Jethro's vital signs and reflexes, Jackson took a short break to stretch his legs. Since it hadn't been all that long since his son had been in the intensive care unit, none of the nurses reacted to seeing him in the hallway. He kept a steady pace, checking the room numbers listed on the white board at the nurses stations and noting the location of Tim's room in relationship to the stairs and the elevator. While he waited for the elevator to take him back upstairs, the old fighter pilot began to formulate a plan.

-NCIS-

George McGee dropped his reading glasses onto the coffee table as he rubbed his eyes. "Ah hell, Cub, your mom's right, I was too damn busy trying to turn you into a man to notice when you did." Feeling every bit of his age, George stood and gathered the papers to move into the dining room. There, he spread out the reports before retrieving his world atlas and the laptop Tim had bought him for his birthday. It was time he learned everything about modern pirates, terrorists and everything that had happened to his son in Somalia.

-NCIS-

Jackson smothered a smile when his son complained to the nurse about them always waking him up and she assured him that it would be four hours before his next check and she'd make sure he wasn't bothered in the meantime. As soon as she left, Gibbs threw the blankets back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed while Jackson watched to see if the coast was clear. When he looked back, Gibbs was expertly removing the tubing from the IV and capping the needle that was taped down to his arm. "Should I be worried that you know how to do that?"

Gibbs didn't answer as he carefully pulled a t-shirt on, making sure it didn't catch on the loop of plastic on his arm that was not secured. A pair of slippers was next, and then Jackson nodded and they quietly and quickly slipped out the door while the nurses were distracted. Not wanting to risk getting caught waiting at the elevators, they used the stairs, Jackson holding on to him tightly as they went down one flight. Finally away from the nursing staff that would recognize them, they took the elevator down three more levels before going back to the stairs.

Gibbs watched through the narrow window in the door as Jackson moved down the hallway, leaning more and more on his cane as he went, finally going down onto his knees as he rounded the corner, leaving the way clear for Gibbs. As soon as the coast was clear, Gibbs moved towards McGee's room. Not too fast, he didn't want to catch anyone's attention, but quickly enough that he was through the door before any of the nurses with Jackson could call for help.

Rooms in intensive care were never totally dark and Gibbs' eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light. The figure on the bed was buried in blankets but still trembling, his head turned away from the door.

"Could I have another blanket please?"

Knowing that Tim thought a nurse had come in, Gibbs picked up one of the blankets from the stack and shook it out before spreading it over the other man. Tim's eyes were closed, but when he felt hands carefully smooth the blankets and tuck them against him, they opened and he turned his head.

"Hey." Gibbs' voice was just above a whisper as Tim stared at him. Never breaking eye contact, Gibbs reached out and found the release for the bed rails and lowered the rail on that side before sitting on the edge of the mattress. Since McGee was propped up in the bed it put them eye to eye.

Tim bit his lip to keep it from trembling. "I told them no visitors."

"I know," Gibbs reached out and brushed his hair back off his forehead. "But you've been alone too much."

"No big deal, I'm used to it." No matter how much Tim might protest, those green eyes never could lie to him.

"Yeah, it was a big deal, and it shouldn't have happened. None of it should have happened and I'm sorry." He moved closer and pulled Tim the last few inches to rest his head on Gibbs' shoulder. Tim wasn't accepting the comfort, but Gibbs was determined to ride it out.

-NCIS-

Jackson played the part of the frail old man until he saw a nurse notice what was happening in McGee's room. He caught up with her and grabbed her arm just as she was pushing the door open. "Now just hold your horses and give them a minute to work this through."

She wasn't at all convinced. "The patient gave strict orders that he didn't want visitors."

"Watch." Jackson didn't let go as they observed the struggle.

"You promised." Tim's voice was ragged as his hands weakly beat against Gibbs' back.

"I'm sorry."

"You promised."

They watched as his hands stilled before grasping the thin fabric of the t-shirt and the anger in his voice gave way to sobs. Deep, heart-wrenching sobs that seemed to come from his very soul.

"You promised... and then I saw the helicopter leave... and they didn't even look for me... and you were gone... and I was alone again, but you promised... you promised."

"I'm sorry." Gibbs knew that later would be the time to explain how he hadn't even been aware of his own rescue, how he'd woken in a hospital room asking about McGee, how horrified he'd been to discover that his rescuers had not noticed the signs of McGee in the cave. Right now all that mattered was to convince Tim to let him in, that he wasn't alone anymore. "I'm sorry."

Convinced the tide had turned, Jackson pulled the door shut. The large window into the room didn't exactly give them privacy, but at least the whispered comfort would not be overheard by strangers. By now several nurses from upstairs had come to collect their wayward patient and he shook his head at them. "If you don't want him to check himself out AMA, then I suggest you figure out how to fit a second bed in there, because I guarantee you, my son isn't leaving his boy, not for a second."

Gibbs' nurse watched for a moment longer as her patient spoke softly to the young man that was leaning against him before leaving to make the necessary call. She'd let the doctors sort this one out. McGee's nurse seemed to agree as she made a call. Jackson made his own call, grateful for the phone Vance had slipped into his hand. "Yeah, Ducky? Leroy's in with Tim right now. I know, but it's a start."

Next up: _But not Forgotten_

The corner may have been turned, but healing will be a long time coming. As McGee struggles to recover and learn to trust again, the team finds that the case that started it might not be over after all. The arrival of Bear McGee, with his own agenda, complicates matters even further.


End file.
